Escape from the Drowned Planet

by Helena Puumala

  Mikal held his waterskin appraisingly in his hands.

  “Your Narra will drink about half of that,” Yarm said as an answer to the unvoiced question. “You’ll find that the rest will just barely keep you from feeling parched.”

  He continued on his way to explain things to the other novices while Mikal, Kati and Jocan quickly ate their meal and then proceeded to feed and water their beasts. Jad had warned them to feed themselves first during stops, since the Narra habitually got ready to leave again as soon as they had eaten the bit of grain and drank the small amount of water that they were allotted at rest stops. While Ceta, Wayfarer and Runner ate and drank, their riders got their saddlebags and saddles ready; that way there would be nothing to do except pop the water dishes into the saddlebags, and mount the beasts, when the caravan was ready to move again.

  There was no reason to linger in a spot that was not distinguishable from any other place that they had passed. The path ran in a depression; that would be the old river bed that their informants had spoken about. Everywhere around them lay the sands, deep in some places, in others only centimetres thick. These shifting sands were all that was left of once fertile farmland; all the nutrients as well as soil fine enough to be picked up by the winds had been borne elsewhere by air currents, many years ago. There was something immensely sad in that thought, and Kati was grateful when Yarm called on the caravanners to continue the ride.

  *****

  In the evening they rode until the sun was going down, and arrived at a well-used dry camp site, the usual place for travellers to reach the first night. Yarm appeared to be pleased with their progress, but Kati was exhausted from the long ride, too tired to pay much attention to how the Caravan Leader was arranging the tents and the chores. When Mikal asked her to help get up the tent that she, Jocan and Mikal were to share, she did whatever he asked her to do, concentrating on getting it right. She looked after Ceta, and ate some of their dry rations, unable to even dredge up much curiosity about what Jocan had done to boil water for the mugful of heavily sweetened herbal tea that he pushed into her hand, while she was trying to feign interest in eating.

  Mikal and Jocan seemed to have weathered the day better than she had, she noted sourly, even as they hovered solicitously around her. Jocan even walked her to the latrines when she could not figure out in the dark where they were; he had one of their off-world lights with which he showed her the way, leaving it for her when he left her alone to take care of business.

  “Better get inside the tent and salve your thighs,” Mikal told her when she got back, a jar of the numbgel in his hands.

  She had forgotten about it; that’s how well it was working. They had all repeated the salving process at their second stop of the day and now she would have forgotten the evening application which, according to Kaina, would make the next day a breeze as far as skin abrasions were concerned.

  “And sweetling, since you’re so beat, I set your blankets up on the right side of the tent, just crawl into them. Jocan and I will be there soon enough.”

  Sweetling? What shit was that? It wasn’t Mikal’s habit to condescend to her, so what...? She was too tired to think it through. Instead, she used the salve and followed Mikal’s second suggestion by getting into her blankets. She fell asleep before she had properly covered herself. The last thought before sleeping was about that word: sweetling.

  *****

  “So how come you and Jocan are weathering this Narra-riding so much better than I am?” Kati asked Mikal the next morning, at sunrise.

  She had crawled out of her blankets moments before and was trying to stretch out the worst of the cramps out of her body before heading for the latrines. Jocan was using their stove to heat water for tea, and for the cereal he was going to make for their breakfast, while Mikal was measuring out grain and water for the three Narra. He looked up at her from his task, his eyebrows raised.

  “Jocan’s body is young and adaptable,” he said. “Me, my node is helping my body to adjust to the demands of the riding.”

  “But mine isn’t.” She stared at him. Then she sighed. “Okay, tell me, why not?”

  “I can guess.” He returned to his measuring, then looked up at her again. “You’re shunning your node, so it’s repaying the insult by ignoring your body’s need for help.”

  Kati sighed again.

  “It’s a dilemma,” she said. “I have been kicking the old goat into the furthest reaches of my mind quite often, refusing to even think about it. I noticed after we dealt with Guzi and Dakra’s armoury on Sickle Island, that every now and then it would sort of try to catch me unawares, just try to get me to do some little thing that I don’t normally do, and I got fed up. So, lately, if I don’t need it, I have just been pushing it away, even from my thoughts.”

  “When we get to Lamania you‘ll be able to get instruction in how to handle a difficult granda node,” Mikal told her. “In the mean time, try to remember that it can only control you if you let it.”

  “That’s no help at all, Mikal,” Kati sighed. “I feel like I have to be on my guard all the time, just in case something comes up that sparks its bloodthirst. Usually, it’s only high-tech weapons that trigger it, so mostly on this world I’m okay, I guess, but it gives me the heebies, nevertheless.”

  “Do try to ease up and relax with it.” Mikal had the three grain allotments done, and he lay the bowls containing them down, turning his full attention to Kati. “Your attitudes should be slowly seeping into it, and affecting and changing it. But if you keep it walled away from you, that can’t happen, and setting your mark on it takes that much longer.”

  “Are you saying that eventually it will no longer be crazy, because I’m not?”

  “More or less. Right now its existence is dependent on your brain and nervous system; it has no life outside of you. It cannot use you without your permission, and your refusal doesn’t have to be a blazing ‘No!’ It can just as well be simple inaction.”

  Kati finished her stretches.

  “I better think on what you’re saying,” she mused. “I may as well do so at the latrines. Looks like Jocan’s about ready to feed us; I better hurry.”

  She was returning from the latrines, her mind occupied by the problem of the granda node, when her progress, and thoughts, were interrupted by Yarm.

  “Mistress Kati, you look like the weight of the world is pressing down upon you.”

  She stopped and shook her head. Her mind had slipped back as far as Gorsh’s space ship, she realized, and the friends that she had made there. And the promises that she had made to those friends.

  “Probably just borrowing trouble,” she answered, in a lighter-hearted tone than her mood warranted.

  “Can I ask for your help?” Yarm requested, going on to explain:

  “That Chrys, she’s having a hard time with the riding, and that Taxom is worse than useless when it comes to her. I told him that he should be helping her since he claims her as his wife, but he just stared at me and swore. I think he didn’t take getting used to riding a Narra into account when he brought her along—probably expected her to be earning money for him already at tonight’s stop at NearWater. I don’t think she ate anything last night, and she’s up, but crying, right now, not eating or drinking. Kaina helped her set up her tent last night and looked after her legs, but she’s being a little testy this morning. She says she’s got a husband and two kids to take care of, so no time for the whores of this world. So I was hoping that you could find it in your heart to see that she’s at least travel-worthy this morning.”

  Kati agreed to do her best. It was just as well that she had someone other than herself to worry about, anyway.

  “How much cereal did you make Jocan?” she asked back at her campsite. “Is there enough to feed another mouth?”

  “If we add some nuts and dried fruit to the meal, sure,” Jocan replied, hauling out tin plates and spoons from a saddlebag on the ground. “Bring her waterskin; I think we’ll have to g
et a glug or two from there; we don’t have extra to spare.”

  So Yarm had been talking to Jocan and Mikal already. Kati headed towards Chrys and Taxom’s tenting site, which was easy to pick out, as it was the only one with two one-person tents: Taxom was not allowing the pretence of being married, to affect his privacy. Likely, Kati reckoned, he wanted Chrys to be available for business each and every night, assuming that some male in the caravan was willing to pay for her services.

  She found the blond girl awake in her little tent, crying her eyes out.

  “Hey, Chrys,” she said to her, keeping her tone cheerful. “Better get up and into some riding clothes. I know you’re cramped and sore but there are some stretching exercises that help. I already did them and I feel way better than when I dragged myself up. Then I’m taking you to our camp to eat some breakfast that Jocan’s cooking.”

  Snivelling, the girl crawled as close to upright as the tent allowed her to, and pulled on the long pants and shirt that riding required. Kati steered her outside and showed her the stretches she had been doing earlier.

  “Okay, fifteen repeats of each,” she told the girl and looked around at the campsite. Chrys’ Narra was standing hangdog beyond the tent, the saddlebags on the ground beside it.

  “Has your animal had anything to eat and drink?” she queried.

  “Not this morning. Someone, Yarm, I think, gave it grain and water last night.”

  The exercises were having the desired effect, Kati noted. A little bit of life was coming into the girl’s eyes. She had stopped crying.

  Kati found the bowl that was used for feeding and watering the animal, on top of a saddlebag pocket. The grain was there, too, and the waterskin was lying next to the saddlebags. It was half-empty but that was okay—they would reach NearWater tonight and there was an artesian well there. She fed and watered the animal which nuzzled gratefully at her hands as she did so; she found herself feeling sorry for the creature, too, and hugged it for a few moments before putting away the bowl which it had licked clean and dry.

  When she turned to Chrys, the blonde had finished her repeats and was standing still, staring at her curiously. Kati ignored the stare, merely picked up the girl’s waterskin and motioned her to follow.

  “Do you like those animals?” Chrys asked as they walked towards Kati’s campsite.

  “Yeah, I do,” Kati replied, startled into honesty. “They’re very intelligent creatures.”

  “Really?” Chrys seemed puzzled. “How can you tell? It seems to me that all they do is carry us, eat, drink and sleep. Oh, and grow hair which is sheared off for making cloth.”

  “I guess I’m pretty sensitive to animals, among other things,” Kati answered vaguely.

  It was a subject she did not really want to get into at the moment, certainly not with Chrys. Fortunately they had reached her campsite where Jocan relieved her of the blonde’s waterskin and added a little from it into the pot in which he was heating water for tea. He set out a collection of nuts and dried fruit in the centre of the cloth he was using as a table, and then he ladled portions of cereal onto three plates—that was as many as they had—and settled to eat his serving directly out of the pot, with the ladle.

  “Next time I’ll remember to bring my own plate and spoon,” Chrys said as she squatted down to hungrily eat the cereal.

  Kati, too, began to eat, and moments later Mikal lay down the blankets he had been wrapping up and joined the meal. They ate in silence, putting away every last bit of porridge, the fruit and the nuts.

  “Wow,” said Chrys, when she was done. “That was good! Your food’s much better than the dry stuff Taxom makes me eat! How do you manage it?”

  “Jocan’s a good cook,” Kati laughed. “When we were choosing what foodstuff to take with us, at Makkaro’s, Jocan had the final say on what made it into our saddlebags. You have just tasted the result; be glad it wasn’t me who did the picking!”

  Jocan blushed with pleasure.

  “It helped that Kati and Mikal were willing to pay for whatever I wanted,” he said modestly.

  “Yeah, we’ve been lucky that our funds have been adequate,” Mikal said, going back to packing the saddlebags and taking down the tent. “So far.” He winked at Kati as he added the last words.

  “Kati’s our money manager,” Mikal added to Chrys. “She’s done a good job, too. I believe she is quite experienced at it. At least she has kept us solvent for quite a while.”

  Kat scrunched up her face at him, then began to pontificate:

  “I learned a long time ago that when you’re off into the wildwoods you don’t skimp on provisions. Or you do only if you have no choice. Travelling rough means that you use up energy; it has to be replaced, if you mean to get to where you’re going. End of lecture.”

  She left Mikal and Jocan to pack up their gear while she went to help Chrys get ready to ride. As she showed the girl how to bundle up her tent and blankets so that they would take up the minimum of space in and outside the saddlebags, she realized that she was treating the girl much as she treated Jocan; as one who was still basically a child, but trying to learn to navigate the adult world.

  It made her feel adult, and hopelessly old, herself. She laughed at the thought as she walked back to where her companions were waiting for her, everything ready to go. Mikal would find her feelings funny she knew, and Yarm—who was waiting for her with Mikal and Jocan—would howl with amusement.

  “Thank you for looking after her, Mistress Kati,” Yarm said to her when she reached the camp site.

  “I don’t mind,” said Kati. “She’s not much more than a child really. She needs a little bit of mothering. I can keep an eye on her, if you’d like me to. Assuming Mikal and Jocan here don’t mind my doing so.”

  “I’m fine with it,” said Jocan. There was an edge to his voice that made Kati stare at him questioningly.

  “You remember what I told you about my mother,” the boy added in a mutter. “I know what life is like for women who have to live that way.”

  On an impulse, Kati grabbed him, and hugged him.

  “You’re one of the good ones, Jocan,” she said with catch in her throat. “I’m gonna remember that forever.”

  As she let Jocan go and headed for Ceta, she saw Yarm looking at her, amused. She grinned back at him; then glanced at Mikal, and surprised a slightly forlorn expression on his face. Maybe he needed a hug, too, she thought to herself—and then remembered: “sweetling” he had said—was it only last night when that had happened? What exactly was happening between her and Mikal?

  *****

  At sunset the caravan rode into the little village that had grown around the NearWater artesian well. In the fading light the travellers could see that the village did not amount to much. About a dozen buildings were clustered around a central square in which a basin had been built to accommodate the water flowing out of the ground. The basin spilled over at one spot, allowing the water to form a rivulet which meandered about the square, before soaking back into the ground. The square was covered with lush grass; at its edges began the gardens that kept the locals in fresh vegetables and berries. Kati found herself wondering if the soaking of the rivulet into ground was enough watering for these or did the owners haul at least some of the needed water to the gardens by hand.

  After the travellers had seen the well which would be their source of water until they rode away again, Yarm led them to a camping area beyond the village buildings.

  “There’s not much here for us,” he told the caravan members when they had dismounted from their Narra and were standing in a rough circle around him. “There’s water and it’s free for the carrying. Fill your waterskins in the morning; it’s another two days before we come to more. I’ll go and ask the Village Eldest if anyone has any fresh fruit or vegetables to sell. If someone has a recent crop surplus of something, anyone of you has the coin, he or she is welcome to make the purchase. Otherwise, it is not possible to get supplies here. You’ll have to wait
until the next settlement, RichWater, to get provisions if you’re running low. There’s a well-stocked store in RichWater; however, their prices are not cheap.”

  “RichWater,” Jocan said as they were setting up camp, hurrying to get the tent up before darkness descended. The sky had clouded over in the late afternoon so they were not going to have the benefit of the brilliant stars this night. “If I remember correctly, Makkaro said to give it a pass, unless we absolutely need supplies for some reason or other. He said that there were cheaper places farther on.”

  “We may absolutely need them since we’re feeding another person,” said Mikal.

  “Unless she has foodstuff I can do something with,” Jocan mused. “I think we’ll have to ask what she has in her saddlebags.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” Kati said. “She’s going to have to contribute. However, I don’t want that Taxom character joining us; he gives me the creeps.”

  “I doubt very much that he wants to,” Mikal pointed out. “He’s been keeping to himself, ignoring everyone, including Chrys, as much as possible.”

  “That’ll change as soon as Chrys is feeling well enough to attract customers,” muttered Jocan.

  Kati sighed. No doubt he was correct.

  A short while later Seb and Sany came by, Sany clutching some coppers in one hand.

  “Yarm came by to say a couple of folk have set up a stall at the Oasis Square, where we can buy fresh food,” said Seb. “Mom’s sending us there, but she said to ask you if any of you are going, too.”

  “Jocan, I guess it’s best if you go,” Kati said, digging her money bag out of the saddlebag in which she kept it, and counting out some coppers. “We’ll look after the Narra in the meantime, and when that’s done, I’ll see what I can do with Chrys.”