The Legend of Dan

by Robert Wingfield

  “My guess is that they are Smorgs.” Tom accepted her hand, and felt shivers run up his arm. “There must be something wrong. According to the files, they live the other side of the planet. This should be Skagan land, free from Smorgs.”

  “Or that bimbo has dropped us in the wrong place... as a joke?”

  “There is that. She has already tried to get me killed.”

  “If we are in the wrong place, we might have a bit of a walk. Smorgs–are they friendly?”

  “They are cannibals and survive by drinking blood and eating the meat of their enemies. Did you see the bows? They are said to use poisoned arrows to paralyse their prey.”

  “Ugh, perhaps a simple ‘no’ would have done, thank you. Is it safe to continue?”

  “I think so. They’ll be long gone by... ahhh.” His voice trailed away as a line of Smorg warriors emerged from the trees. In accordance with what he had read, they certainly did not look friendly, and they were bending their bows in readiness.

  Tom leaped up, and drew his sword. There was a bright blue flash. It flicked restlessly in his hand, as though it had a mind of its own. He pulled Suzanne behind him, and held his shield up for protection, desperate not to let her see his fear.

  “Look, I’m sorry about this,” he mumbled. “I’m sure they don’t mean any harm.” He raised his voice. “Look we don’t want any trouble. You’ve got the wrong people. We are tourists, and we only recently arrived. Tell us what you want...”

  The Smorgs replied by unleashing a cloud of arrows. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Suzanne screamed, and Tom hopelessly steeled himself for the impact. He raised his sword and shield in a futile gesture. Incredibly, both items sprang into life. They moved entirely of their own accord, backwards and forwards, blocking and deflecting the missiles. One or two pierced the attackers, who fell, paralysed. The sword flashed red for a moment and then changed back to its original colour.

  “Wow some sword,” breathed Tom.

  Suzanne uncovered her eyes. “We are still alive?” She looked around for a reason and then laughed nervously. “Of course, I understand now. Kara said these weren’t ordinary weapons. They must be the automatic Superstabs we see on ‘Warrior Channel 12’. I never thought I’d get hold of one. They are invincible.” She drew her own sword and inspected it.

  “Shouldn't we be defending ourselves? What are they going to do next. Can we get away while they are thinking? I’m told they are not that bright.”

  The Smorgs remained motionless, muttering amongst themselves.

  “We’re fine now,” said Suzanne. “I think we’ve taught them a lesson. Let’s go.”

  As they retreated slowly towards the cover of the forest, Tom used the opportunity to study the Smorgs more closely. They were a short, stocky people, with dark hair and skin, and slightly prominent canine teeth. They were all dressed in heavy brown armour, visible beneath cloaks of a fine black cotton material. In addition to the short bows and broadswords they carried, each had a long tapered pole strapped across his back. One had a crimson lining to his cloak.

  As they reached the edge of the clearing, the crimson Smorg spoke. The sound was unintelligible. The words echoed like a ping-pong ball on a spring, inside a tin can. To Tom’s relief, the translator cut in, after it had downloaded the language from the Galactic Fog10. The words were re-rendered in a singsong voice, that reminded Tom of the holidays of his youth.

  “It’s a complete waste of time you resisting. It’s time to give yourselves up, isn’t it?”

  “Look, I’ve said we’re strangers here,” said Tom. “Tourists only. You don’t want to upset the tourist industry by hurting visitors, now do you? Think of all the lost revenues where you charge 50% extra for a cream tea.”

  “Strangers we are ourselves,” said the Smorg, “so no, we’re not of the bothering, but we are of the hunger. Your woman looks exceptionally tasty, and not as dangerous as our usual victuals.”

  “We can defend ourselves, as you’ve seen,” said Tom, waving the sword. “Best you go elsewhere in search of dinner. Do they have FabSalwch’s here?”

  “Had they if, we would be eating there a reasonably-priced burger of tastiness, and not of the fighting, but no, they don’t have. Can’t get the electric grills started, apparently. Now, you can make a run for it, by the likely,” he said, as Tom and Suzanne tried to sidle into the undergrowth. “Track you with our noses, aren’t we, and we enjoy the faster food.”

  “We don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Waiting, don’t you. The power in your Superstabs will only last longer briefly, with the power drain on this planet, aren’t he, and ‘twill be the worse for you when they give out, by then. So throw down your weapons willy-nilly.”

  “No,” said Tom quietly, controlling the tremor in his voice. “Why should we give up? You’ll probably kill us, whatever happens.”

  “You are Skagans, isn’t it? You will surrender, why don’t you. We only mean to use you as sex slaves, will it? Can it be that bad?”

  “But you fired arrows at us,” said Tom.

  “They aren’t really sharp, are they?”

  “Sharp enough to kill your own people.”

  “Weren’t they? Must have had a dud batch. Having trouble with deliveries and quality, isn’t it.” The man shrugged.

  “He’s right though,” said Suzanne nervously. “I think we should attack before the power drains. I want to try this blade out, but do we have to fight them all?”

  “According to my research, if we kill the leader, the others will run off. I think we should attack.”

  Suzanne nodded.

  “When I say ‘now’, we rush him, okay?”

  “What, now?”

  “No, I will say ‘now’!”

  “Right, let’s get it over with.”

  Tom gasped as Suzanne leaped forward, and charged the Smorg leader. He followed, desperately. Their swords and shields flashed in the sunlight, deflecting another hail of arrows, and then they were in frantic hand to hand combat with the Smorgs. Although their swords were longer and worked automatically, the Smorgs proved surprisingly agile, their poles being deployed very skilfully in defence.

  The forest echoed with the sound of metal against metal. Tom and Suzanne found themselves hemmed in, and were forced to fight defensively, back to back. To their alarm, they found they were not actually doing any harm to their foe, merely defending themselves. The exertion of the battle, despite the automatic reactions of their weapons, was causing them to tire. Tom realised they were not going to survive very long. He looked desperately for a way of escape. There was a path into the trees that was unguarded. He took hold of Suzanne’s shirt with one hand and tried to drag her with him. He was dismayed to find she was sagging, her sword now doing all the work in defence. If she dropped it, they were done for. He hacked through the men in front of him, and started to force their way through to comparative safety. His hopes rose, but then more Smorgs emerged from their supposed escape route. They were cut off. Suzanne collapsed, and her sword fell to the ground.

  Suddenly, a tingling, like static electricity, flowed through Tom’s weapon, and a new power seemed to enter the combat. Suzanne managed to retrieve her sword, and blocked an evil blow aimed at her throat. Her opponent’s sword shattered, and curled back to slice through his arm. The blade followed through deeply into his body. The sword came out cleanly and gave off a brilliant flash of red, before it flicked back to deliver another deadly blow to the next adversary. Tom’s sword flew through a high block and split the helmet and head of another attacker. The battle became a massacre, and the clearing rang with death cries. The Smorg leader backed off towards the trees, keeping away from the main skirmish. Tom broke through and rushed him, but the man darted away, and disappeared into the undergrowth.

  “I will be seeing you again, don’t I,” the words faded, and all was silent again in the forest. A dark shape in the trees at the edge of the clearing
turned and drifted away.

  Suzanne shook her head, as if coming out of a trance. She gazed round the carnage, gave a cry, and collapsed, sobbing. “What have we done? I couldn’t control myself. Have we really killed all these people?” She dropped her sword.

  “Kill or be killed. I felt strange too. I wanted to fight. I wonder if that’s something to do with the weapons. He sheathed his, and tried to block out the horror of the carnage. Trembling, he knelt down, and put his arms round the girl. She turned and clung to him. Her sobbing slowly subsided. Tom helped her to her feet, picked up her sword and led her away from the battlefield, his arm supporting her, around her waist.

  As they walked, he tried to rationalise his actions. The guilt made him sick, but he knew how protective he had become towards his lovely companion, and realised there had been no other way.

  “Is it over?” She blinked. The tears had made her mascara run.

  “I hope so,” he said. “We still have to track Bluben.” He looked at the inside of his shield. “I’ve got a better signal now.”

  The woodland swallowed them up, and they walked on slowly and in silence. There was nothing either felt like saying.

  Some hours later, Suzanne and Tom were standing at the edge of the forest at the top of a steep incline. Tom marvelled at the panorama of the countryside beyond. He could see that the land was thickly wooded, but at various intervals, there were clearings, revealing large grassy meadows and many small lakes with interconnecting waterways. In the distance, to the right and the left, the ridge they were standing on curled round in two great arms, and on the right-hand side, in the far distance, peaks of barren rock were seen rising above the trees. Directly ahead on the horizon lay one of the freshwater seas that covered half of the planet’s surface. The incline sloped downwards, a grassy sward leading to a little blue lake, bounded on the far side by trees. The sun was low on the horizon, and the air was balmy, smelt of honey and was full of the sounds of bees working on the flowers.

  “Is it always like this?” Suzanne took his hand.

  “Apparently they gave up having seasons. It doesn’t change much through the year.”

  “It’s beautiful. It’s the sort of place I’d love to settle down in.”

  “Me too.” He squeezed her against him. She did not resist. “It’s getting late. Perhaps we should make camp?” He looked at his companion. “Though what sort of camp we can make out of nothing, I cannot imagine.”

  “Let me have a look in my bag.” Suzanne had a twinkle in her eyes. To Tom’s amazement, she pulled a long rolled canvas sack out of the pouch, followed by a plastic lunch box, and a small cooking stove. The girl laughed at his amazement. “It’s a scaler bag, you idiot. it reduces everything to a size which fits in. You can carry anything that goes through the opening. In fact, I’ve got nearly everything that we need, in here.”

  “Ah yes,” Tom mused, “Freya, my, er sort of er wife thing, has a bag exactly like that, with everything in it, only hers doesn’t reduce things in size.” He blushed.

  “You have a wife? Do you love her?”

  “We’ve been together a few years, but she doesn’t really like me. I guess we stay together more from habit than anything...”

  Suzanne’s expression clouded, briefly. “I’ll get the accommodation put up,” she said. “And I’ll do the cooking. No it’s okay, I don’t need any help. Sit, watch and learn. You can do the washing up.”

  The canvas sack automatically erected into a small tent. Suzanne popped the contents of the lunch-box into the stove, and they were eating a cooked meal within minutes.

  “There’s only one tent,” said Tom as they watched the plates and utensils from their meal biodegrading rapidly into the soil.

  “I’ll ask you again, are you in love with your wife?” Suzanne’s question came abruptly.

  Tom blushed. “Would you believe me, if I said no?” He faltered as the gorgeous golden eyes fixed him. “I expect every man says that to a beautiful girl. It is true though.”

  Her eyes flitted around his features. “You think I’m beautiful?”

  “Achingly so.” He reached for her hand.

  She sighed. “Where I come from, I was considered dowdy. Thank you for appreciating me, even though you might be only saying that to get into my undergarments.”

  “I’m not,” protested Tom. “I do mean it, although I would be interested in your undergarments… from a purely anatomical reason of course,” he added. “I mean, I could be making love to you right now, if your hand is a sex organ. I wouldn’t know. I hope you’d forgive me.”

  She grinned. “How was it for you, then?”

  “You mean it is?” He gulped.

  “No, silly, of course not. Can you imagine the problems that might cause?”

  “It would give a whole new meaning to ‘pleased to meet you’, I guess. That’s usually how we greet each other... ugh.”

  “Don’t worry, my chastity is safe,” said Suzanne. “My undergarments are bio-tronic11 anyway... so nobody gets in… unless I want them to,” she added quickly. She reached for his hand. “I’d rather not be alone tonight. Will you promise to be good?”

  “You won’t be disappointed,” Tom blurted.

  Suzanne looked startled.

  “Sorry, I meant that you won’t be disappointed in me being a perfect gentleman.”

  “That so?” Suzanne’s eyes reflected nothing but the sparkling lake below. Her soft beauty and the nearness of her body kindled the passion within him, but he did his best to control himself.

  The air became cooler.

  “I don’t want to miss the sunset,” said Suzanne. “I’ve got a coat, but I’d rather you held me. I feel very alone at the moment: no job, no money, no real home.”

  “You can tell me about it,” said Tom, wrapping her in his arms.

  “Later,” she said. “Let’s watch the sun go down, first.”

  They huddled together, holding tightly on to each other, and watched as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and evening mists rolled in, blanketing the trees in the valley below.

  “Come on then,” said Suzanne, with a slight huskiness in her voice, “time for bed.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she said, and shivered as the shriek of a nocturnal beast came out of the forest.

  They eased into the tent. “I’ll set the force-field,” said the girl. “It’s an ‘Anton Dec’12 special to keep the animals away.”

  Tom removed his armour in silence, and as his eyes became accustomed to the gloom, he watched Suzanne strip down to her undergarments. He knelt beside her. She saw him studying her.

  “See, nothing special about them.” She indicated her knickers. “Actually, I’m curious to examine your anatomy too. After all, we need to know these things if we are to spend time together. Supposing you don’t have a sex organ, and reproduce by Sudoku or something. It could be a boring night.”

  She shuffled round to kneel facing him, and held his gaze. Then she reached out, resting her hands on his shoulders. He took her arms and pulled her gently forward. Their lips met softly in the darkness. “You smell gorgeous,” he said.

  “You’re not making love to me, are you?” She suddenly pulled away. “Your mouth isn’t that organ, is it, and you are trying to take advantage?”

  “Not at the moment,” he said. “If you want to know which bit it is, you probably feel it prodding you, already.”

  “I wondered what that was,” she said, “but we mustn’t. You don’t want me. You have a wife... and I’ve seen the way you look at Kara.” She paused. “Oh Tom, but I really need some affection tonight.”

  “Kiss me again,” he whispered. He pulled her body against his again, holding her tightly.

  Tears welled in her eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” Tom looked anxiously at her.

  “You have a wife. There is, er was, someone else for me too.”

 
“And you loved him?”

  “He left me for a blonde like Kara. That’s why I ran away, and got that job with JWSU. I couldn’t stand even being on the same planet as the bastard. That’s why I hate her too.”

  Tom nodded sympathetically. “I can understand that.”

  “Do you fancy Kara?”

  “Truthfully, I did, with all that flesh she keeps showing, and those tantalising promises…”

  “I can do flesh,” said Suzanne.

  “There’s no need,” answered Tom, taking her face in his hands. “I’m sure I’ve met you before. Sorry, I can’t believe I’m using that cliché, but it is true.”

  “So you could like me a bit then, even though I’m hideous compared with her?”

  “You are the most lovely alien I’ve ever met.” Tom forced his tongue between her lips and playfully tickled hers. His hands found her bottom, and squeezed.

  “I’m probably the only alien you’ve ever met,” she said.

  “No, I’ve met loads,” said Tom, thinking back to the mucronns. “You are definitely the most lovely.”

  “And you are the most handsome,” she said.

  “Compared with Bluben?”

  “I never did go for more than five bits sticking out of a body,” she said, softly rubbing his groin. “Let me switch off my pants. I’m feeling a little strange down there, as though I need some air around my ancillary lobes.”

  “What?” Tom recoiled. “Oh my lord. Don’t tell me you are so alien that everything is going to be really weird?”

  “Another joke.” She laughed. “I’m hoping we are going to be compatible. Tonight,” she whispered, “I am yours. Phoist, how my body is aching. Go on, find out the truth.”

  Tom gently removed her remaining clothes. No signs of a residual force-field remained, but her scent was intoxicating.

  “Come on please…” She lay back naked on the padded floor of the tent, and stretched her arms above her head. Her eyes followed Tom, savouring every movement as he self-consciously removed his own clothes. “I think we’re compatible,” she gasped. “Now, take me, for Phoist’s sake, take me.”