A Man For Tasha

by Beth Sadler

  Chapter 8

  “Please Elena you must come with me now if you are to live. We’ll come back for your father as soon as we have you and your cousin Larissa safely at the coast.” Trandar begged his life-mate to listen to him. The German guns firing in the distance were getting closer and closer.

  Elena pleaded for Trandar’s understanding, “I know Larissa and I must escape with you but, I’m so worried about my father. He’ll come home from Paris tonight and not know where we are.”

  Elena wrung her hands together, tears streaming down her face. Her father had left this morning to conduct important business to do with finding missing family members in Russia. He feared for their safety under this new communist regime

  “Please come now, both of you.”He looked over at the lovely young woman standing near the kitchen window watching for her life-mate to return.

  “Please Larissa, stay away from the window in case a stray bullet hits you. Jandra will be here for you soon and will blame me if you are hurt,” he smiled in an attempt to relieve the tension of the moment. Larissa returned his smile tearfully and, moved obediently away from the window.

  A rattling at the front door had them all turning to see who was there. Trandar pushed the women behind him and stood ready to face whoever was outside the locked door.

  “Trandar let me in.” The voice was familiar and welcome. Trandar rushed to the door and unbolting it, quickly pulled Jandra into the room.

  “What is the situation Jandra?” demanded a tense Trandar. The two women rushed to his side, eager to get first hand news of the German advance.

  “We have less than an hour to get away before the war lands on our doorstep,” he informed Trandar. “Quickly, gather all our equipment, we mustn’t leave any signs of Teeron presence here.”

  Turning to the two women he hugged Larissa close, while he spoke to them both. “You are our life-mates and we must get you to safety immediately. Please, pack only what you can carry as we must run to the top of the hill where the transporter is hovering. Very soon you will be safe in Bordeaux with Larissa’s mother.”

  The two men quickly gathered their computer equipment and the journals that detailed their daily life on Earth. Most importantly, the journals registered both of their bondings and subsequent life-matings with Elena and Larissa for the Teeron ancestry tribune.

  The Teeronite team mates had both fallen instantly in love with the beautiful Russian cousins the minute they had met them. As it was a Teeron tradition to bond immediately when the loved one was found, they hadn’t been surprised. The young women, however, had taken a few days to understand what had happened and who they had fallen for. Now all that mattered was staying alive long enough to contact the interplanetary pod and effecting their escape to Teeron. This war had put a definite halt to anymore research in France or the rest of Earth for that matter.

  The pod was in Australia so it would take a few hours to reach it. But first, they would have to come back for Elena’s father, then they would all travel to the pod together.

  The evacuation of the cottage was swift, if tearful, and the run up the hill made without too much effort; the sounds of shells blasting into the land, and the screams of horses and men, spurred them on. The sounds were horrible to hear.

  Reaching the top of the hill the group stopped while Trandar used his com-watch to contact the transporter. Soon a loud hum vibrated into the ground nearby as the vessel became visible and a winch lowered from under its main body. The women were stunned by its size as it hovered over them but, their love and trust for their life-mates gave them the confidence to continue.

  Two by two the men hooked their mates on to the line with them and were winched up into the bowels of the ship, held steady by the tractor beam. The other two members of the team were waiting to help as they boarded, soon they were all settled into flight seats and the transporter was safely invisible again.

  Larissa and Elena looked around in bemusement, this was nothing like they had imagined but, anywhere their men went they would follow happily. For now they were all safe and that left only Elena’s father to be rescued when he returned from Paris. Please God, thought the women, let him be alright.

  The trip to Bordeaux was uneventful and swift. In less than an hour the transporter lowered them to the ground in a field near Larissa’s home. She had picked a bad time to visit her cousin but, couldn’t regret it as it had brought her Jandra and a love that would last a lifetime.

  The women settled safely in Larissa’s home, the two men returned to the transporter where they plotted the next move.

  “We need to pick up my father-in-law at night when the transporter won’t be seen. It’s risking discovery to de-cloak twice in one day in the same area,” worried Trandar.

  “I agree,” said Jandra. “We can’t return now in case a stray shell disables our ship. Unfortunately, we must wait until dark to descend to the hill behind the cottage and then go looking for him.”

  They consulted the other two members of the team and discussed their plans. They would leave the younger men on board, as the risk was not theirs to take. There was a lot of arguing and resistance to the plan as Yondar and Tarel wanted badly to help. Their final job before taking off was to prepare the two oxyzon chambers, ready for any healing that might be required. Hopefully they wouldn’t be needed.

  Four hours later Jandra quietly knocked on the door of the pub door in the village. He and Trandar had looked everywhere for Elena’s father but, to no avail. It was beginning to look as though the man was still in Paris. This would have to be their last stop before their return to the transporter. Night was fading fast and discovery would be all too possible in daylight.

  The door opened a crack and a nervous voice asked what they wanted.

  “Please, we are looking for M. Krouglova. He was due to return on the evening bus from Paris but, he hasn’t arrived home yet,” whispered back Trandar.

  “He got off the bus an hour ago and may have run into French troops on his way home. The troops came through here about that time, on the way to the front.” He started to close the door but, Trandar jammed his foot into the crack, stopping him.

  “Where do you think they might have taken him?” he asked urgently.

  “The fighting has reached the Marne River so he might be with the troops down there. He could either have been recruited or volunteered to fight.” the man once again tried to close the door, but Trandar pushed back.

  “Please let me go,” cried the bar owner. “Everyone here in the village is getting ready to evacuate to Paris, you should too. If the troops find fit young men in the village they’ll recruit you to fight.” Trandar moved his foot and let the door close.

  Turning to Jandra he gave him a desperate look as he voiced his thoughts. “Our life-mates will never forgive us if we return without Elena’s father; we must find him no matter what the risks.”

  “I agree,” replied Jandra immediately. “Luckily we have Teeron strength and speed so we should be able to catch-up to those troops quickly.” Without another word the men took off at a run towards the river and their fate.

  The gunfire grew louder the closer they got to the river. Running over a bridge they found themselves in a fog of gunpowder residue, the smell overpowering their senses and clogging their throats, it became impossible to see their way. The blast of shells and rifles was shocking to their ears; war was not something they were familiar with. Teeronites had never had a war and never would, if their leaders had anything to say about it.

  They ran on until, suddenly a trench opened up at their feet and they tumbled in. Dead and dying lay all around, severed limbs bled into the mud and dirt, making a gory, foul soup that the men had to wade through in their search for M. Krouglova.

  “Hail Hera,” moaned Trandar. “How can supposedly civilised people do this to each other?”

  “We can’t stay here,” choked out Jandra. We must find M. Krouglova and get back to the transporter; this horror is not
for decent men and women. The Interplanetary Science Co-Op must be notified that this is a hostile planet, it still needs more time to grow up,” he sighed in disappointment. “We mustn’t come back to this world for a very long time,” he finished.

  The gun fire eased for a few seconds, it was just enough time for Trandar to hear faint cries for help coming from a familiar voice. With a jubilant whoop he thumped Jandra’s shoulder and steered him towards the sound he’d heard. Running fast they nearly fell over the man they were searching for as he huddled into the walls of the trench.

  “Oh God, please get me out of here, I need to be with the children, not here in the middle of a battle. The French dragged me along when they heard my Russian accent.”

  “How did it happen?” asked Trandar.

  “They grabbed me after I got off the Paris bus. A soldier asked me for a match and when I answered he recognised my Russian accent. Apparently, these soldiers didn’t like the idea of my not fighting.” He sounded completely done in and the Teeronites realised they would have to carry him out of there.

  Propping him up between them they each took an arm and half dragged, half carried him with them. They made good time and were almost at the bridge, when a loud whistling noise followed them up the road. A shell burst close behind them, throwing them all into a ditch beside the road. Thick clouds of yellow smoke billowed around them, blocking their noses, burning their throats and down into their lungs. Mustard gas, the three men looked at each other in despair as they started to cough. Death would come quickly now unless they could get help immediately.

  Trandar quickly covered his father-in law’s face with his handkerchief as he struggled to call the transporter for help.

  “Hail Hera, we’re not going to make it by ourselves, Jandra.” coughed his team mate.

  “Just hope they get here soon, we’re going to need the oxyzon’s help.” replied Jandra.

  In an attempt to escape the cloud of toxic gas, they crawled along the ground with their faces close to ground where they found a bit of clean air to breathe. Less than a minute later the transporter was overhead with Yondar hanging from the winch harness. Trandar tried to stop him descending into the cloud of fatal gas but, his efforts only ended in a hacking cough and blood pouring from his mouth. Trandar had wanted only the winch to be lowered not a man accompanying it. He feared they were all doomed now.

  Quickly, first Yondar then Tarel descended and, snapping the men into the harness got them on board. It was a unanimous decision to put M. Krouglova into the first oxyzon and then they tossed a coin to see who would enter the last. Yondar won and was quickly stowed into the healing chamber. No one knew if it would be successful but, it was all they could do for now. The others took all the medication they had onboard that might help, and put on oxygen masks. For the moment they were still alive and able to operate the transporter.

  Jandra and Trandar looked at each other in defeat, they knew they were both doomed and each thought of the love they were going to lose.

  “Hail Hera, I hope we can get our life-mates to safety before we die, I’m sure both are pregnant and will need help soon.” said Jandra in despair. Trandar just nodded his head in agreement he didn’t have the strength left to answer.

  Tarel was the only one of the three men remaining on his feet, so took over responsibility for piloting the vessel. They had a serious problem that he hadn’t informed the others of yet; the blast that wounded them also, caused damage to their communication equipment. They had no way of contacting the Pod until he was able to affect repairs.

  Arriving back in Bordeaux Tarel opened the oxyzon chambers housing a much improved M. Krouglova and Yondar. It was decided that Tarel would deliver Irena’s father to Larissa’s home and bring back the women to say goodbye to their life-mates, perhaps forever. The men refused to enter the oxyzon chambers until they’d had a chance to speak to their life-mates. Yondar took over the running of the transporter while they waited.

  Two hours later the transporter took off for the final time. Tearful, heart-wrenching goodbyes had been said, with promises of a love that would last forever. Trandar and Jandra were now in the oxyzon chambers and the remaining team members knew what they had to do. If they didn’t survive then, the transporter must never be found. The Teeron technology would be dangerous in the wrong hands and after what the men had seen today they would sacrifice their lives rather than let that happen.

  Flying over the ocean west of Bordeaux, cloaking device still intact, they descended, settling the transporter onto the sea floor. Tarel would work on their communication as long as he was able and they would all take turns in the oxyzon, but, no one was hopeful of being saved. All they could do was to set the controls at maintenance levels and hope that one day their vessel would be recovered by a research team and their story told. Their last thoughts were for their loved ones here on Earth and on Teeron.