“Watch this,” Edward said to Albert.
Sitting cross-legged in front of us Edward dropped the mud brick to the grass and pulled what looked like a cross between a set of brass knuckles and a butcher’s knife from a sheath on his belt. He gave the brick of dried mud a couple of good thwacks with the knife’s hilt until it cracked along a seam then pried the two halves open like a clam.
A scent of pure deliciousness wafted into my nostrils. My stomach growled like a dog and my saliva glands immediately tried to drown me as the unmistakable smell of cooked fish filled my senses.
“Salmon,” said Edward. He nodded in the direction of the river. “The river and lake’s teaming with them. Other fish, too. Here.” He separated the two halves of the mud brick and used them as plates for us. “Just watch for bones.”
It took all of my self-discipline to first pull the tiny, fragile white bones from the salmon before eating it, but it would have been a real shame to come all this way only to choke to death on my first real meal. Edward helped Albert debone his portion, then, as if he was the head-chef of some fine French restaurant, sat back and watched us with a look of expectation on his face as we ate.
It was quite possibly the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. The smoky, oily salmon flesh melted in my mouth, filling my senses with pleasure. Albert grinned from ear to ear, juice and oil shining on his lips and chin.
“Good, eh?” Edward sat back on his haunches, smiling broadly, apparently pleased with our reaction. “Let me get you another,” he said, as we made short work of the first. He returned to the fire and repeated the process of pulling a brick from the embers, cooling it and cracking it open. He also brought us a canteen of water.
As I ate my second helping of salmon, I added another tick to my growing list of things pointing to someone or something having brought us here for a reason. I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty sure the probability that there could be salmon on a planet other than Earth without someone transporting it there was only a couple of digits shy of next-to-impossible. No, this was just another indication that whoever, or whatever, was pulling the strings behind the curtain of this world, had plans for us. They didn’t want us to starve, which meant, logically, at some point they were going to have to put in an appearance and make those plans known to us.
“I really need to check on Chou,” I said after finishing my meal. I felt a pang of shame at having left her for so long.
“Of course, of course,” said Edward. “Go, be with her. I’ll watch over this little rapscallion.” He ruffled Albert’s hair playfully.
I thanked Edward and moved to Chou’s side, wiping pieces of fish and oil from my mouth.
Chou lay on her back, chest rising and falling slowly, rhythmically. She was still in her drug-induced sleep. I placed the back of my hand against her forehead.
“Shit!” I hissed quietly. Chou’s temperature was definitely higher than earlier. I bit into my lower lip with concern.
A slim, elegant-looking woman approached from behind the lean-to. She was a little taller than me, her round face free of any wrinkles or blemishes, with the kind of cheeks I imagined aunties would have felt the need to pinch every time they visited. Her thick light brown hair was pinned back on either side of her head at the temple by two metal hair clips. I guessed she was somewhere in her early thirties. Her clothes looked like they were circa nineteen-forties or fifties: blue pants and matching jacket over a white blouse, which, although a little worn-looking was business-like and clean save for a few muddy splotches. She wouldn’t have looked out of place in an office or welcoming you to an la art gallery. I recognized her as the woman I had spotted tending the fire and fetching water from the river when we first arrived at the garrison.
“Hello,” the woman said, with a distinct New York accent. “I’m Evelyn McHale.”
“Meredith,” I replied, shaking her offered hand. “This is Chou, and the little boy is Albert.”
“I’m going to assume you all arrived here from different times?” She paused, then, with a smile, said, “Aren’t those just the strangest words you’ve ever heard?”
I nodded in agreement. “I’m from 2017. Albert’s from 1910 and Chou says she’s from 2374.”
I expected the dates to leave Evelyn speechless. Instead, she nodded and said, “You and Ms. Chou are by far the ‘oldest’ of us, if I may use that term. Before you arrived, that title belonged to Tabitha; she’s from 1977. My last stop before whenever we are now was 1953.”
I suddenly felt intolerably overwhelmed by the absurdity of our situation. How was any sane person supposed to deal with this? How? I gave a brief snuffle and threw my hand to my mouth to stifle it.
“Oh, honey! What’s wrong?” Evelyn said, she stepped in close to me and wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder, her hand slipping down my arm to hold my hand. She squeezed it reassuringly. “Tell me what’s wrong. Are you okay?”
I nodded, gave a little snort and pulled myself together as best as I could. “Sorry,” I said, embarrassed. “It’s just… all of this.” I fluttered my hands around my head.
“Oh, my dear, it’s nothing you should be apologizing for,” Evelyn said, stepping back but not letting go of my hand. “I’ve felt like falling apart ever since I arrived. If it hadn’t been for Edward, well…” her voice trailed off, and her eyes seemed to briefly focus on a point far away. Then she was back again, smiling at me. “Tell me, how’s your friend doing?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly, hearing my voice falter again. A small red dot of blood had appeared on the gauze Bull had placed over Chou’s wound. “Bull says he thinks she’s been poisoned and… and I think it’s getting worse.” It had only been three days since Chou, a total stranger, had dragged my ass off the beach, but in that short time, she had saved my life twice. This last time, putting her own life on the line to save Albert and me when she could have easily outrun our two pursuers and left us behind. The idea of losing the one person in this world I felt I could trust was terrifying.
Evelyn leaned over and placed the back of her own hand against Chou’s head. After a moment or two, she pulled it away, nodding in agreement with me. “Well, don’t you worry. Doc Bull’s a fine physician. Bit abrupt for my taste, but I’m not going to hold that against him. I’m sure your friend’ll be just fine.” She did a pretty good job of sounding convinced.
I seized the moment to change the subject. “You all have made a lot of progress in just three days.” I took a good long look over the camp.
“That’s all Edward’s doing. He’s been unstoppable since we arrived. We landed in the water together, and he helped me get to shore; then he went back in and rescued as many souls as he could. Everyone was just so confused and frightened, but not Edward. He took charge, organized us into scavenger groups and had us search the shoreline picking up anything useful that washed ashore and looking for anyone else who made it to the beach. Most people were just as terrified as we were and ran away, but some were grateful and decided to join us. When we found the river, Edward said we should consider making a camp along it as we wouldn’t last long without a source of fresh water. We followed it upstream and found this clearing. We spent the first night sheltering from the rain as best we could. Then the lights in the sky came, and everyone felt so much better. It heals you, you know?”
“Yes, we know,” I said. “I’m counting on it curing Chou… if she can just hold on.” I felt tears force their way to the corners of my eyes. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so useless in my entire life as I did then.
Evelyn grasped my hand and gave it another brief squeeze. “Now, don’t be silly. Of course, she’s going to make it. You have to have faith.”
I nodded, knuckled the tears away and said, “Please, go on.”
“Well, now, where was I? Oh, yes. The next morning, when we all saw how strange the sun was, it became obvious we were not on Earth anymore. Edward stopped us from panicking. He said he believed we’d been brought
here for a good reason and he was sure that reason would be revealed to us at some point. Until then, we needed to survive and to do that, we needed shelter. He gave us all something to live for, a purpose.”
It seemed like Chou and I weren’t the only ones to believe that whatever intelligence was behind transporting us to this planet had an as-of-yet unrevealed plan for our future.
Evelyn continued, “Edward had us make the lean-tos, so we had somewhere dry to shelter. Then he got everyone involved in creating the garrison. Except for Wild Bill. He asked him to go scout out the island and report back what he found.”
“Luckily for us,” I said.
Evelyn gave my hand another squeeze. She pointed at the almost complete cabin that Edward and the two women had been working on. “Benito showed us how to make the cabin, which was difficult, seeing as he doesn’t speak any English. Thank goodness for Peter, he speaks more languages than you can shake a stick at. We’re going to have a fine village here soon. Somewhere safe for all of us.”
“You said Benito doesn’t speak English?”
“Just a dialect of Spanish, as far as we can tell.”
“Not even after the aurora… you know, the lights that come at night.”
“Aurora. I like that name,” said Evelyn. “But to answer your question, no, we still have to rely on Peter to translate. Why?”
I gave a moment’s thought to making up some story as a cover but thought better of it. The world I came from thrived on deceit and mistrust. We had a chance to change that and now seemed like as good a time for me to get on board. I took a deep breath and said, “Because Chou doesn’t speak English. And up until the first night’s aurora, we couldn’t understand each other at all. Now, when she talks, I hear her words as English and when anyone else speaks Chou hears it in her language.”
“Oh, my Lord,” Evelyn said. She turned to where Edward sat chatting with Albert by the campfire. “Edward, you need to come hear what Meredith has to say,” she called out.
Edward got to his feet and brought Albert with him, his right hand resting on the boy’s shoulder as they continued whatever conversation they were so engrossed in.
“Meredith just told me something amazing,” Evelyn said. “Go ahead dear, tell him.”
I dutifully repeated my story for a second time.
“It’s all true,” said Albert, when I was finished.
“Chou said she thought it was the nanites… the pixie dust... that’s what we call those little specks of light the aurora illuminates. She says they are actually really tiny but powerful machines that have reprogrammed us in some way, so we can understand each other.”
“Pixie dust… I like that name, too,” said Evelyn, cheerfully.
“Chou is convinced these little machines are responsible for healing us. I know it probably sounds impossibly farfetched to you, but in the time I come from, they’re beginning to work on that same technology. And Chou said that in her time they’re commonplace, just not as advanced as the ones on this planet. Which I guess makes sense if she’s really from several hundred years into my future.”
Edward’s brow furrowed. “I’ll admit, it’s hard to get my mind around. If I hadn’t seen what they can do with my own eyes, I would be skeptical.” He paused momentarily, then said, “Tell me, Meredith, why do you think only your group was given this ability to translate?”
“Until now, we didn’t even know we were the only ones affected. We just assumed that because we changed, everyone on the island must have too. Why were we singled out? I honestly have no idea.”
“How do you know it changed all of you?” Evelyn said. “Couldn’t it have just affected one of you? And who’s to say it only works when it’s translating between English and whatever language it is Chou speaks. Do you think it works with other languages, too.”
“Wow!” I said. “That hadn’t even crossed my mind.” I thought the idea over for a second. “There’s only one way to test that theory. Maybe we should go talk to Benito and see what happens?”
“That’s a good idea, but we’ll have to save it for later, I think,” said Edward, “I don’t want to pull him from his work right now.”
“Well, one thing is for certain,” said Evelyn. “Whether it’s all of you or just one of you that has this ability, if it works on other languages too, it’s going to make you very, very valuable.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Oh, my dear, just think what it means if you are able to translate any language? There are hundreds of people on this island, and I’ll bet you dollars to buttons most of them don’t speak English.”
It was a keen observation on Evelyn’s part. In this strange new world, it would be what you could contribute on a personal level, your skills, knowledge, abilities, and willingness to learn which would be the yardstick by which your worth was measured. There could be hundreds of different cultures from throughout time represented on this island alone, some of those languages would inevitably be so old they would be a complete mystery. I could only imagine how valuable someone who could communicate with all those cultures might be… and how coveted they might be by those who pursued power. And if there were more humans on that distant continent to the east, there could be thousands of different cultures, millions even.
“That’s concerning,” I said.
Edward stood, subconsciously brushed dirt from his pants, and looked over to where the two women were still working on the cabin. “I really should get back to work. That roof isn’t going to finish itself. Perhaps later we can put your theory to the test,” he said. “In the meanwhile, make yourselves comfortable. I’ll introduce you to everyone when we’re done for the day.”
“We’d like to stay as close to Chou as possible,” I said, placing my arm around Albert’s shoulders.
“Of course,” Edward said. “Evelyn, would you do the honors?”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll look after them,” Evelyn offered with a smile.
Edward said goodbye and walked off toward the cabin.
“Well, young man,” Evelyn said, sitting down, “why don’t you come over here with me and tell me all about yourself.” She patted the ground next to her. Albert joined her. I turned my attention to Chou while Evelyn kept Albert occupied with stories of her own childhood adventures growing up in Washington D.C. and Tuckahoe, New York—which he seemed fascinated by. They chatted enthusiastically, laughing as they bantered back and forth.
Thankful for a few minutes to myself, I checked Chou’s temperature again; she seemed unchanged, but I noticed a line of drool running from the corner of her mouth. It had a slight red tint to it.
My thoughts drifted back over everything that had happened since morning. I hadn’t even had time to really think about Phillip. Poor, poor, Phillip. Although I had known him for only a few days, his violent murder had rocked me to my very core. Despite his outer gruffness, he’d been a good man, and his affection for Albert had been apparent. It was a painful loss.
I felt a swell of panic rising within me as I realized how close we’d all come to dying. If Wild Bill had not been near enough to hear the fight, or if he had arrived a few minutes later, then the chances were good Albert, Chou, and I would be lying dead alongside Phillip. As it was, Chou had risked her life to save us and had paid a painful price; might even pay the ultimate price. The idea of losing Chou, too… well, that was too painful to even allow myself to consider.
“He reminds me of my boy,” Evelyn said.
“What?” I said, suddenly pulled back to the present. “I’m sorry, I was thinking back over… never mind.”
A look of concern passed across Evelyn’s face, like a cloud moving in front of the sun. “Albert, he reminds me of my own son, Malcolm. He’s about the same age. A good boy. A very good boy.” Evelyn’s mask of abundantly cheerful energy slipped momentarily, a lopsided smile hinting at a deeper pain lying just beneath the surface like a toxic pond. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that some of these people m
ight have families they'd left behind. That everyone on this island had their own story to tell, their own pain and worries and fears that were easily equal to my own, if not even more so. This was no time for me to wallow in self-pity and fear.
“I’m so sorry,” I managed to say.
“Oh, that’s alright.” Evelyn reached out and patted my knee affectionately. “It’s not like my ending up here was anyone’s fault but my own. Others arrived here because of a bad flip of the coin, but I’m the only one responsible for my fate. No one to really blame but me.”
I was about to ask what she meant by that but thought better of it. I sensed there was a lot of pain hidden behind the beautiful façade that was Evelyn McHale.
“How many kids… I mean children, do you have?” I asked, trying to redirect the conversation back to something more cheerful.
“Just Malcolm,” Evelyn said, her smile returning as she recalled her boy.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” said Albert, throwing his arms around Evelyn’s neck and hugging her tightly.
Evelyn laughed, a cute, girlish giggle, obviously genuinely moved by the boy’s show of affection. “That is a wonderful thing to say, Albert. You are a very chivalrous young man.”
“He’s also a very brave kid,” I said.
Albert blushed.
Evelyn cocked her head in exaggerated curiosity. “Oh really? It sounds like there might be a story of knightly gallantry behind that sentence.” She spoke her words with no hint of adult condescension. She pulled Albert to her and held him tight, rocking back and forth as she stroked his hair. Finally, she set him down again. “I swear to you, my fine young knight, that just as you have promised to protect me, I will never let anyone harm you. Do you hear me?”
Albert nodded, tears appearing at the corner of his own eyes.
“Well, I guess now is as good a time to share my own story,” I said. “If you’d like to hear it?”
A dip of Evelyn’s head indicated that she would, and I spilled everything that had led up to my arrival on this world, leaving out none of the gory detail.
The Paths Between Worlds Page 12
