World Wright Incorporated (World Wright Inc. Book 1)

by Vlad ben Avorham

  Not seeing anything other than exhaustion on the tired faces, he nodded to Dr. Gupta and steeled himself to force his feet back into the boots. “How would you approach this?”

  Anju shrugged at him. “Let’s not take more than we need to with us. It’s best not to appear too wealthy. What we do take we should break up in to three small packages of increasing value. That way we can offer or take away a package as a way of negotiating price.”

  Davidson grunted, and they debated and haggled with each other, deciding the value of the various trinkets laid out before them based upon difficulty to replace, and value to societies of various technological achievements. Davidson’s worst nightmare was that they would find themselves both alien and primitive in the eyes of these villagers, and thus very very vulnerable. Fearing to delay any longer or risk losing the light, they set off downstream with their much lighter packs slung over their shoulders.

  The Village People

  Anju Gupta had always been grateful that his parents had brought him to the United States when he was very young. It had given him flawless English with a very mild midwestern accent, which was constantly valuable to him in his career. It gave him an intimate connection to the dominate culture of both business and finance. He was able to use this connection to turn his academic efforts into financial success. Success far beyond anything his lower middle-class parents had ever dared dream of when escaping the dangerous sections of Deli. Because of this, he had always felt a deep connection to those who didn’t have the good fortune to make it out. Who, like his grandparents, were struggling to just not starve much less live with any dignity. Because of this, he not only donated sizeable sums of money every year to modernizing developing nations, but also had spent quite a bit of time personally in some of the most dangerous slums and most remote poverty-stricken villages on earth. Yet no where had he quite seen a sight like that before him.

  Commander Davidson had prepared an observation area for them. When he asked he found that Davidson had paid out of pocket to attend a civilian course taught by former graduates of the US and British Sniper schools. Usually this was only open to police and private military contractors, but Davidson knew some people and pulled some strings to be allowed access to the course. Anju didn’t want to think about why, and so he didn’t ask. It did allow them to study the very human villagers go about their daily lives. At first he was sure that they were late stone age, not seeing any metal tools in existence, but then he caught the glint of two bronze buttons on the tunic of an old man who arrived at the town’s central square, if you can call the wider spot in the mud path by such a grand name. It didn’t take long for Anju to recognize he must be one of the elders, or maybe the chief. So metals weren’t unknown, just too expensive for anyone here to be able to afford. Between that and the fact that despite their obvious poverty, no one was showing signs of starvation, Anju quickly changed the value of the bundles in his backpack.

  After the sunset and the village streets cleared so that there was less chance of being overheard, Anju turned to the Commander and said in a low voice that wasn’t quite a whisper, “Sir, what we brought... um, it’s no good.”

  Davidson grunting, half snarled back, “What do you mean ‘no good’? It’s all we have!”

  “It’s too much.” Anju hissed back, signaling Davidson to remain calm. “We could buy half the village for what is in those bundles. It’s enough wealth to tempt them to just kill us and keep it.” Anju hesitated for a moment. He knew this would not go over well at all. “For that matter, your axe may put us in more danger than it protects from. I counted twenty men in the village between fifteen and fifty. The chief may think if he rushes you and they can take that axe, it might be worth the couple he might lose.” Anju watched Davidsons frown deepen in the fading light. The other said nothing for a long while as the light faded.

  Anju had almost decided that the Commander had succumbed to exhaustion and dozed off when a harsh near whisper replied, “When we circle back upstream for a bath in the morning, you can break down the small and middle pack as you see fit. You’re the expert on this, and I trust your judgement. As to security, and bringing the axe or not, that is my department. If this chief wants to get greedy, just stick close and I’ll get us out of there. Your one and only job on the way out, is to embed one of those flares deep in the chief’s face. After he’s died a lingering death in a weeks’ time, we’ll come back in force and give the new chief and weakened village, a whole new kind of proposal.” The naked promise of assured violence in the Commander’s tone chilled Anju to the bone. He believed him. This was not an idle boast. He only felt moderately better when he heard the tired sigh that followed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Those situations end up making for restless nights. Get some sleep, I’ve got first watch. I’ll wake you in about four hours.”

  As Anju tried to get the sleep, his exhausted body craved, his mind couldn’t help replaying the resigned tone of one with long experience in the Commander’s voice as he spoke about restless nights. He realized that there was much that he didn’t know about Davidson. He now suspected that the old veteran had seen far more than he had let on to his co-workers and casual acquaintances. As sleep took him, he also had the realization that he was glad Davidson was on their side.

  Meet the Flintstones

  We Come In Peace

  Davidson walked in slowly, letting Dr. Gupta lead the way. After bathing in the stream this morning and eating the last of the figs and olives that they had packed in with them from before, they began the leisurely stroll into the village allowing themselves and their clothes to dry in the near tropical air of the island as they approached from a path that could be easily seen. They really didn’t want to surprise anyone. Even so, their appearance in the village caused all bedlam to break out. Dr. Gupta glanced back at him a bit nervously. “It sounds to me like they’re speaking Greek. I can’t understand it, not that I speak Greek normally, but it doesn’t quite sound right for modern Greek. Just so you know, in some versions of early Greek the word for enemy and stranger are the same word. It’s even argued in some circles that when your Jesus said “Love your enemies,” He may have been talking about hospitality."

  Davidson snorted and gave a short cough. “Uh Dr. Gupta, I’m Jewish. He isn’t “my” Jesus."

  Davidson almost laughed out loud at the momentary confusion that crossed Gupta’s face. “Oh, fair point. Though supposedly, wasn’t he supposed to have been one of your tribe to start with? Honestly, I find the whole thing a bit confusing.”

  This time Davidson did give a low chuckle. The things they talked about while mothers were snatching dirty children back into huts and men were running off to find men of authority. “Don’t take this the wrong way Doc, but I’m also from Texas, and we typically are confused about worshiping cows, steak maybe, but cows leave us scratching our heads.”

  This time it was Dr. Gupta’s turn to laugh. “It’s ok. My family was never Hindu, so I share the confusion. We were always Buddhists as far back as I know.”

  Davidson thought about it for a moment, “Huh, yeah, suppose that is pretty popular in that area of the world too.”

  Dr Gupta sighed. “I’d say I’m agnostic, but I’ve seen enough of the math. There is an order to things. It isn’t an accident. What it all means? Let’s just say that the jury’s still out on that one.”

  Davidson was a bit surprised. Most of the egg head types all tended to be arrogantly bought into their religion of “the great accident” and were more than happy to heap derision on anyone who viewed the world more broadly. To his mind they had really become more dogmatic and demanding of blind adherence to their own ‘orthodoxy’ than most religions. Even some of the more problematic ones. He was sure that the rabbis had gotten it wrong in plenty of places on the details, but the broad strokes... I mean, seeing people here in what can only be a different universe. Even the constellations are different, yet everything else “earth normal” up to and including m
any of the plants, animals, and people? How did they all get here if something did not create here them? Couldn’t have all crash landed in dimension hopping ships after all... His attention was pulled back to the present as he saw the old man with the brass buttons approaching, trailed by half a dozen men with various improvised weapons. They didn’t appear openly hostile, but not openly friendly either.

  “Fair enough, but enough of that for now. Time to get your game face on. We’ve got company inbound on your two o’clock.” he told Gupta casually pointing at the Chief’s party who was headed straight for them.

  Take me to your leader

  Anju took a deep breath and did his best for a friendly smile as he approached with his hands visible and open. “Hello. We’ve come to trade.” He knew that they wouldn’t understand English, but he hoped that his calm voice and even tone would be seen as reassuring.

  The old chief didn’t smile back, but rather eyed him warily. He looked over their flight suits with unmasked curiosity and Anju couldn’t help but grin when his eyes focused on the long brass zipper in the front. Anju knew he was mentally comparing it to the brass buttons he wore on his own tunic. In the back of his mind he was silently glad that the company hadn’t followed the military tradition of embroidered rank insignia so the Commander’s flight suit had actual silver wings on his chest, and a small sliver eagle on each collar and lapel. This would make rank and status apparent to the chief, even across cultural barriers. Anju filed that thought away for later consideration. Right now he had to focus on not getting them hit over the head with something.

  “Trade,” he said again slowly. Hand signaling himself and motioning giving something to the chief and then getting something back from the chief. Anju could see recognition in the chief’s eyes, but no reply was made. The village men, who were acting as the chief’s guards, moved out around them and began to close in behind.

  He heard Davidson’s voice growl. “Gupta, remember what I told you. This doesn’t go right, handle the chief and then just worry about keeping up!”

  “Not yet.” Anju pleaded with Davidson. “They may just be spooked.” He turned back to look at the chief, his eyes trying to convey that they didn’t want trouble. He could see the chief considering the situation. Davidson’s tone had definitely made him more wary, whether or not that was a good thing Anju had no way of knowing.

  Anju almost audibly sighed as the chief issued an order and the men who had been circling them pulled back and seemed to relax a bit. The tension dropped out of the air and the chief gestured toward a small shaded area under a tree that had a few logs arranged as low benches. “Commander, I think we’re good. The chief seems to have concluded that he can gain more by working with us than anything unpleasant.”

  Davidson snorted quietly. “Smart move” was all he said.

  What we have here is a failure to communicate

  Chief Dorien wasn’t sure what to think about these strangers. Their manner of dress, their speech, even their unnaturally healthy and unblemished appearance, was just odd. It was as if they had never missed a meal or been sick a day in their lives. It was like they had never had to do a hard day's work either, judging by their hands. Yet the weave of their garments and the amount of metal they casually carried was vast wealth. Where were all of their guards? Their leader? The one who spoke with the tone of menace and command, and carried an axe worth more than two fine fishing boats, seemed to be the only one who was armed. None of this made sense, and until it did, Dorien wasn’t about to do anything to put his people in jeopardy.

  Better to calm things for the moment. “Relax, we don’t know how many of them there are. You could be picking a fight with the leader of an army who is just camped off on the other side of the trees.” Leon and Crasus pulled back at his words. Dorien knew he would need to keep an eye on them. He would rather not have these strangers blood on his hands if he could help it, but he had noticed how Leon had been looking at that axe. He’d better move this along before things go out of hand. Gesturing over to the shade... “Please sit. We can talk”

  Once everyone was settled, the chief gave orders for tea to be brought. These strangers obviously wanted some form of exchange. After looking to the one with the metal birds who was obviously his chief, the darker skinned man reached carefully into his bundle and pulled out another finely woven cloth like Dorien had never seen before. He unfolded it and casually spread the incredibly expensive material out on the dirt. Dorien had to stop himself from crying out at the casual abuse of such finery. Then carefully the man laid out upon the fabric a clear jar with a red lid. The jar and the lid were both made from a material that Dorien had never seen before. The second item was a small tube seemingly made of the same kind of material, and the last item was a stick with a small piece of metal stuck in it. Dorien wasn’t sure exactly what any of it was, but all of it was unlike anything he had ever seen. The man smiled at him and then picked up the first clear jar and using a twisting motion removed the lid, showing that it would open. He then mimed filling it with water, put back on the lid, turned it upside down and claimed it wouldn’t leak. Dorien didn’t believe him. Even corks sometimes leaked. “Bring me water!” As they were waiting for the water to arrive, the young man pulled out the second item. Again he twisted off one end and exposed what looked like an odd paint brush. He then he used it to draw a small circle on his hand. It made the mark like magic! When the water arrived, he not only proved that his magic jar didn’t leak, but the mark didn’t smear or wash away!

  Gasps from those surrounding the chief were real. The stick was a handle and the small piece of metal a blade. The man used it to casually slice through a strip of the fine material and hand it to the chief. Dorien wanted it all. The other man mimed that they wanted to trade for food, and cloth, and leather. This was no problem the chief brought them out more than they could actually carry. He wanted these items. When next they met with the other village, everyone would see that he was the better chief when he had these amazing things. His villager’s sons would attract the very best of the mates this time. Who wouldn’t want to be in the village with such wonders?

  The exchange made the tea arrived. Dorien almost jumped back. As the orphan girl he had taken in when her father was lost at sea served the tea, the smiling man’s somber chief, who had said nothing other than to nod or shake his head as the smiling man sought his approval for the trades suddenly lunged forward and pointed at her. Dorien didn’t know if he wanted her for his slave or for his wife? She was a comely young woman. Just past her fourteenth year, this would be the season they would probably match her at the festival. As he recovered from the shock, he thought better for her as this rich man’s pampered slave than a poor fisherman’s wife. Seeing the look of fear in Elena’s eye at being the subject of the trade, Dorien chided her, “What girl? Look at their wealth! Would you rather smell of fish guts your whole life? Even if he means to make you his pleasure slave, you know it would be the life of a perfumed pet! Your future would have been decided at Festival in the fall, anyway.”

  Dorien hardened his heart as Elena fought back the tears. This was best for her, even if she couldn’t see it at the moment. He motioned his willingness for the trade and was surprised to see the flash of anger in the other chief’s eyes. There was some harsh argument between the two strangers for a moment, and the chief himself stood up. Dorien thought there was going to be a fight, but the other chief just walked over and took the girl’s wrist and pointed to the small carved horse on her bracelet. He wanted horses, not the girl. Dorien didn’t have horses to trade. He signed an empty hand. The other chief looked at his man, then back at Dorien. He pulled from his own pack a square that looked like metal, but unfolded like a cloth and flapped in the breeze. Directly he gestured from the magic material to the girl and back again, still with an angry look on his face. Dorien could tell he was way over paying for her as a way to show his value of her. Dorien wished he understood what had gone wrong, but he simply agreed. Th
e other chief thrust the priceless treasure at him as if it were worthless. They gathered up their new goods, struggling a bit under the weight. Even loading up Elena until she could carry no more. Then, with a few gruff words barked to the smiling man, they all left without a single look back.

  From Camp to Keep

  What has become of my life...

  Elena couldn’t help but cry. She was trying very hard to be quiet about it. The angry man who had bought her hadn’t even so much as looked at her since they left her village over an hour ago. The other man just looked uncomfortable. He looked like he wanted to be nice, but he didn’t know how.

  What she knew was that she was tired. This pack was heavy, but she didn’t dare drop it. The angry man moved so fast. She didn’t want him to hurt her. She wished he’d never even seen her. What was she supposed to do now? How much farther were they going to go? She hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to Mamma Sara. Now she would never see anyone she knew ever again. There would only be the angry man forever. She thought, “He looked so strong and handsome at first, and then after he spotted her it all just fell apart. He got mad a Papa Dorien because he didn’t have any horses and only had to settle for me instead.” Her pity party was interrupted as she felt her foot snag. The ground was coming up quickly, and there wasn’t much hope of stopping it.