Four Worlds

by Maureen A. Miller

  No, not a shadow. A man. A lanky man. Under the deep shade of the crater he was difficult to analyze. He moved towards the ledge of the trail, placing his hands on the railing and gazing down. In that stance, the light struck his face and she gasped.

  “You did this?” she whispered, appalled.

  A lingering stroke of the setting sun reached the blond hair.

  “Wouldn’t that be convenient for you?” Salvan sneered. “Good ole, Salvan–up to no good again. Heck, let’s send him off to the detention ward for a ren or two.”

  It was hard to ignore the bitter bite to his words, but the logistics and history still had her casting her doubts.

  “Then, you just happened to be taking a stroll on a path no one knows about at the same exact moment a landslide nearly claimed my life–and maybe took my husband’s?”

  On those words her voice shook and the pain intensified. She cried out involuntarily.

  Salvan cocked his head in consideration, his pale eyes dropped to her waist. Age had hardened some of his features. Now his pallid lips twisted bitterly, and his aquiline nose looked ill fitted to his flat face.

  “In fact, it isn’t by chance that I’m up here,” he uttered, disregarding her state. “I was following you. I lost you for a while.” He hooked his thumb at the tunnel entrance behind him. “I got disoriented in the tunnel–well, not so much disoriented, as fascinated with some of the gadgets I discovered.” Sharp eyes slid past her, taking in the melee down the hillside. “I just came out now to witness this mess.”

  “Salvan,” she breathed heavily. “I need help. Zak needs help.” She hesitated. “Please.”

  His malicious grin told her there would be no support. Crouched over in pain, she hated her vulnerability. Anger began to brew and she raised her head to berate him, but a rock hurtling from above vaulted her into action.

  “Look out!” she shouted, shoving Salvan with enough force to propel her backwards.

  The tumbling boulder narrowly missed her. Although it was only a single rock, it was nearly the size of a human, and gravity had given it such impetus that it crashed through the walkway, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. Aimee gazed across the fissure at Salvan who stood with his hand to his throat in shock. He began backpedaling even as she tried to choke out his name. Her plea went ignored. Instead, he pivoted and sprinted to the cave entrance, never once looking back.

  The gap in the walkway was too great for her to hurtle, and now her only communication with the outside world had just turned tail and ran. Aimee sank back against the crater wall, watching the sun begin to set. Perspiration brought on by the pain chilled her skin. She clutched the movement in her womb and eyed the crater rim for any activity.

  She was alone.

  So alone.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Gordy tipped his nose into the air. He sensed a change. The humidity of the lowlands dissipated under a unique breeze. Beneath his boots, the spongy soil transitioned into a packed loam, heavily mixed with sand. A new scent permeated the sloping trees–a brackish waft–unfamiliar, but pleasant.

  Sema’s steps slowed. It was a welcome change from the breakneck pace she had them executing through the lowlands.

  “Why are we slowing down?” Gordy asked. “Are you finally tired?”

  “No,” she scowled.

  The scowl was short-lived, though. There was a sharpness to her features now–an eagerness in her mysterious eyes. A focus to each stride.

  Rather than exhibiting fatigue, she seemed more energetic than ever. Jogging ahead of them now, she charged up a grassy knoll, disappearing between two slanting trees, their golden fronds folding shut behind her.

  “Hey!” Gordy called out.

  Solont rubbed the back of his head.

  “I’m about ready to collapse,” he declared.

  Gordy noticed the man’s hunched stance.

  “Why don’t you sit down for a few minutes,” he offered. “I’ll run ahead and see where she disappeared to.”

  More silver than blond was revealed in Solont’s hair as the sun beat down on it. Gray whiskers scored his jawline. He squinted at Gordy.

  “Maybe that won’t be so bad, but don’t leave without me,” he joked halfheartedly.

  “Never.”

  Gordy crossed the few steps between them and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. It felt too boney. This man needed a good meal.

  “Never,” he repeated.

  “Why are you guys stopping now?” Sema called, her face appearing between the golden fronds. “We’re here!”

  Here? Gordy and Solont mouthed simultaneously.

  “Where is here?” Solont whispered.

  “With this woman,” Gordy murmured back, “who knows.”

  Climbing the embankment to join her in the veil of leaves, Gordy felt the robust breeze caress his face. Through this thicket of ferns, he caught his first glimpse of the ocean. It was breathtaking. He had seen oceans before, but only on approach to a planet. Earth was covered in water, but other than Aimee’s lake he had not experienced anything as grand as this in person.

  Water–as far as the eye could see. It rippled in a measured rhythm, the color ranging from a dark indigo at the horizon to placid cerulean arcs, inching up on pink sand.

  He caught Sema scrutinizing his expression and clamped his jaw shut.

  “You’ve never seen an ocean?” she surmised.

  “Of course, I have. Just not from this perspective.”

  Her lips twitched. “And here I heard Warriors were supposed to be worldly.”

  “I am worldly.” Okay, that sounded sulky. “I have been to other worlds.”

  Sema crossed her arms, still stifling a smile. “Perhaps, but have you ever seen one of these–”

  She navigated a patch of sand mottled with leaves and disappeared into the next thicket. Tanned hands poked out of the underbrush to part the limbs as she swung her arm in invitation.

  How could anything she revealed to him possibly top the breathtaking vista to his left? Even now he cast a glimpse at the majestic water. There was no end. No land to be seen. How far away was Aulo?

  Gordy dragged his gaze back to the thicket and grudgingly trudged in her wake. A few steps into the grove and his boots dug in. Okay, maybe there was something more profound than the sea. His head tipped back as he gaped at the mutant before him.

  “What is that?”

  Sema beamed and walked up to the beast, slapping her palm against its side.

  “It’s called a boat.”

  “A boat?”

  “Yes, you ride it in the water.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why would you possibly ride in the water? Why not fly?”

  Annoyed by his reaction, Sema let her hand drop, but it curled into a fist. “Do you see anything around here that we can fly in? If you have a craft hiding in the woods nearby, I’d be more than happy to hop on board and see the sights from the sky.”

  Somehow her anger amused him. He stifled a grin because he knew her response wouldn’t be pleasant. Of course, he knew what a boat was. Aimee had a primitive little tub with a stick that propelled the vessel slower than a weary sumpum across her lake. It was a quaint little toy. He thought it was for children, perhaps.

  But, Sema did have a point.

  There were no terra angels conveniently parked on the shoreline. The Tok, and his family were now so far away the only option was to reach Aulo and solicit help there. And if reaching Aulo meant traveling across the ocean in this prehistoric barge–well, he did once fly an elephant to Ziratak.

  “Where did you get it?” he asked.

  “I built it,” she declared smugly.

  Gordy paced the length of the vessel. It billowed out at the side like a pregnant Zull, but tapered into a long stern. The construction seemed quite the feat for a single person to erect. He was impressed, but he should have learned by now not to underestimate Sema.

  “You built it by yoursel
f?”

  She nodded and eyed it with trepidation, thinking he had caught a flaw.

  “How?”

  Sema frowned. “Well, actually I built it half a ren ago. I went on a quest. I was supposed to be hunting Lowlanders, but I realized my journey would take me close to the ocean. One look at the water, and I became so inspired.”

  Gordy liked the way her eyes softened at the memory. There was youth there to conflict with the burdens that had aged her. This woman was an adventure-seeker, and it absurdly thrilled him that he was going to be able to share her adventure across the ocean.

  “I was late in returning to our village, but it was worth it. For a brief time, I could work on something constructive.” She tapped the solid planks. “It is crude, yes. I only had a few tools that I could carry in my sack.”

  “You had the intuition to bring tools on your quest?”

  Sema blushed. “They’re always at the bottom of my sack. You never know when you need to build something.”

  Gordy’s eyes slid over the slip of fur that dusted against her knees. Tied to her waist was a pouch that he thought just contained his Star Laser and water.

  “Still, that’s a small pouch for such a large project.”

  “These gasar trees peel into strips rather easily. The slabs are water-resistant. I tested them. It was just a matter of attaching the planks. I created a paste from the stalk of these hetrak plants,” she pointed to a clump of flowered bushes high above the shoreline, “and first assembled the flat floors of the boat. Then I carved the edges of those level pieces to match the natural curve of the gasar panels.”

  Her enthusiasm waned. “It’s been sitting here a long time. This is the first time I’ve been back since I built it. I can’t vouch that the paste will hold up, but it sure did seem strong on some of the test pieces.”

  On Earth, Zak and Raja had boasted of their abilities to swim underwater for extended periods with no oxygen. He hoped the same gift extended to Anthum’s atmosphere.

  Solont stepped up and scratched his head.

  “That is going in the water?”

  “Yes.” Sema rooted her hands on her hips.

  “And how is it going to move?” he asked.

  Gordy cocked an eyebrow. “Actually, I was wondering the same thing.”

  Sema’s sloe-eyed gaze slid back and forth between them. Her lips thinned and she shook her head.

  “Why don’t you climb in, and let me show you.”

  Gordy stepped up to the curved wall, wondering if he could jump and reach the top.

  “I’d love to, but how?”

  Turning around, Sema crossed over to the closest gasar tree and nimbly climbed its limbs until she could swing inside the vessel. In another second, she had her elbows on the frame and was gazing down upon him in challenge.

  “That tree grew some. It wasn’t so easy last time.”

  Gordy reached for the first limb, giving it a firm tug. It looked rather spindly and he wasn’t sure it would hold up to his weight. Cautious, he took the first step. The limb beneath his foot wobbled as he hefted up, but soon he was clambering into the boat alongside Sema.

  “I’ll wait down here,” Solont called up. “No sense in making the climb any more times than necessary.”

  Gordy braced his hands around the balustrade. “Wise man. Let me take a look around, and we’ll see if this is even possible.”

  Sema snorted. “You have so little faith in my craftsmanship.”

  “I don’t know you,” he pointed out. Then, with a smile, he added, “but it might not be so bad getting to do so.”

  Gordy was pleased to see a blush steal over her high cheeks. She turned away and pointed towards the floor with similar planks to the sides, these slightly less bowed.

  “These are glued with a moss and sap blend. They are supported atop a series of bulkheads, walls to create compartments inside the hull. This way if there is flooding, it is compartmentalized.”

  Impressed, Gordy stomped his foot on the deck to test its firmness.

  “How did you come up with the design?”

  “Believe it or not, it was from a childhood book. A story about a young girl stranded on an island. She shares the island with wild creatures, which she eventually tames. As she grows older she decides she is going to build a craft from the resources around her. It was a much smaller vessel.” Sema looked out on the ocean, her eyes softening. “The story ended with her sailing towards the suns.” She shrugged. “It was up to my imagination to decide her fate.”

  “What did you decide?” Gordy asked softly.

  Introspective, she finally answered. “I believe that she traveled the sea and partook in countless quests.”

  Gordy followed her gaze, envisioning a young woman with long, dark hair blowing on the ocean wind. She was profiled by the setting sun at the helm of her craft.

  Casting another glimpse at the boat, he decided it would either be their vehicle to salvation or their instrument of death.

  “Well, Sema, I believe you’re about to have your quest.”

  She looked troubled. Her fingers fidgeted with the belt around her waist.

  “This–” she waved her hand at the deck beneath her, “–this is something I’ve been waiting for–something I had planned. This is my quest as you point out.” She looked down at Solont pacing across the pink sand. There was a slight limp to his gait. It was more an effect of fatigue than injury.

  “My adventure,” she repeated. “My fate.”

  Gordy leaned over, resting his elbows on the balustrade. He dipped his forehead into his palms, closing his eyes and listening to the keening breeze. In time, he rose and met Sema’s sober gaze.

  “I understand. If you sail this craft and it fails–it was your decision to attempt it. It was your quest. You don’t want the burden of guilt if we should lose our lives. We did not choose this journey.”

  A balance of relief and guilt darkened her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Sema, I need to save my family. I have a ship full of people that are relying on me. This–” he tapped the hull “–this is your adventure, but it may be my only chance to find aid for them. There is no way to express how grateful I am to you for saving our lives in that chasm, but if you should leave us here on this beach–I understand.”

  The intensity of her stare could be disconcerting, but he held up to it. He knew she was measuring him.

  “I can’t guarantee we will make it to Aulo,” she hesitated. “I can’t even guarantee that we will live.”

  Gordy nodded. “I am aware of that.”

  “What about him?” she tipped her chin towards Solont.

  “The decision will be his. But before we present him with his options–” Gordy glanced up and down the deck, “–perhaps you can explain what propels this craft.”

  The tactile inspection of his face continued until finally a flash of mirth skimmed across her lips.

  “Let me show you.”

  Her enthusiasm was infectious…until she revealed her grand plan. Opening a flap in the deck, she hoisted up a post. The column was tall, as high as the deck was long.

  “There is a crossbar,” she pointed to another post in the depressed bin.

  Crouching down, she yanked out a board and withdrew a folded cloth which was impressively dry. That had to affirm that the homemade sealant was working.

  “You take this cloth.” She started unrolling the long drape. “And you affix it to the crossbars on that pole.”

  Gordy frowned. “And then what?”

  “You let the wind do the work!” she beamed.

  Gordy’s enthusiasm waned.

  “And, what if there is no wind?”

  Her zeal tempered. “You don’t go very fast.”

  “You puff up your cheeks and blow real hard,” Solont yelled up, now standing below them.

  Gordy chuckled, but stifled it when he saw Sema’s annoyed expression. Her hair rippled in the coastal breeze, giving credence to her plan. Th
e wind was strong here and he could only imagine that it was greater out in the vast expanse.

  “Okay,” he said. “I understand using the wind, but how are you going to steer it? When I studied the maps, I saw that Aulo was just west of the sun trail at midday.”

  Soft eyebrows shot up. “Well, that’s more than I knew. I have the ability to steer, but I had no route planned. No one would speak of Aulo in my village.”

  “So, your plan was just to head out and hope you hit Aulo on the other side?”

  “I’m not an idiot,” she mumbled and looked away.

  “The last thing I’d suspect you of being is an idiot,” Gordy assured.

  That reclaimed her attention. “It sounds to me like you were desperate,” he added.

  Sema dropped her head and lowered her voice to ensure Solont could not hear.

  “I didn’t like hunting people. I did it because I am loyal. But I didn’t like it. And I didn’t see any way out of that duty unless I fled. And, in order to flee, I had to go far.” She pitched her head towards the sea. “So yes, you can say I was desperate.”

  Shaking off the effect of her admission, Sema beckoned Gordy towards the rear of the boat. He followed, troubled by her words.

  She leaned over the stern and grabbed something tied to the back. It looked like a horizontal lever, and as she asked him to lean over with her eyes, he saw a wooden panel at the bottom of the hull shift with each move of the lever.

  “A rudder,” she explained.

  “Yes,” he admired her work. “The terra angels had rudders to negotiate their pitch in planet atmospheres. I imagine it’s the same concept in water.”

  She bobbed her head in agreement.

  Gordy began to pace the perimeter of the deck, stopping occasionally to kick the wood with his boot, testing its resiliency. He hefted over the balustrade on all sides, sliding his hand along the hull, gauging the manmade sealant.

  “You did a remarkable job, Sema. It still amazes me that you accomplished this on your own.”