by Chogan Swan
She arrived and seated herself on the ground, knives sheathed behind her. Her empty hands rested on her knees—palms up.
When the vessel cleared the cliff walls that hid the beach, the crew dropped anchor at the mouth of the inlet. They lowered a rowboat and five crew members, along with the one she thought was the leader, climbed down a net and into the boat. The leader knelt in the prow watching her as they approached. He wore a slender sword. The others in the rowboat carried knives in their belts, but those could be tools for shipboard life rather than serious weapons. The two men at the rear of the boat held flintlock muskets on their laps with casual familiarity. It was obvious they did not consider her a threat.
The two oarsmen jumped out of the boat when they reached the shallows and guided the boat to shore. The leader stepped onto the beach and swayed, a symptom common to most humanoids after long periods at sea. He recovered in a moment and approached, stopping a few paces away. He removed his hat and spoke a few words, bowing from the waist and extending his foot toward her—a decorative touch.
Tiana, still seated, bowed in return. “Sadly, I do not yet speak your language,” she said in a humanoid trade tongue—hoping there were roots of it here.
The leader tried another language, and they went through these steps until exhausting the languages for which he knew greetings. When he reached the end of his repertoire, he motioned to a man holding a musket.
That one, dressed in a blue coat like the leader's, came forward and spoke phrases from other languages until they had gone through his store too. The other men stepped closer, curious.
To show she would like to learn their language, she repeated all they'd said, in order and held out her arms, curved upwards—a gesture most humanoids recognized as a cry for help—a child reaching for its mother.
Their eyes widened. “Madre de Dios!” the leader said. He stepped back, paused, then gestured for her to come to the boat.
Tiana stood, but kept her eyes on the men; she reached for her bag of stores. When she lifted the bag—quite a large one now—the musketeer at the rear of the group noticed her tail. He startled and raised his weapon in her direction, crying out, “Eyyah es un mono!”
Tiana continued lifting the bag and slung it at him; then she dove behind the leader, hoping they would be reluctant to fire close to him. She popped to her feet by his side and assessed. The man in the back was pinned; her bag had trapped his gun and leg. The other one who had tried to speak to her stepped back, touching his knife, but kept the musket pointed at the ground, watching her coolly.
He said something to the leader, perhaps advising a peaceful response, but the leader growled an angry word and grabbed his sword hilt.
Acta Vila! Why put the stupid one in command? She grabbed his wrist and forced the sword back into the scabbard. “Don’t be rude,” she said firmly. “I mean you no harm.”
Instead of calming, he screamed and tried to jerk away from her grip. A simple buckle attached the sword belt, so Tiana unlatched it, pulled the whole ensemble out of his hands and tossed it far out into the water. The men watched with open mouths as it sailed through the air, belt flapping, to splash down a full hundred yards from shore.
The leader shrieked and tried to strike her with his free hand.
She snorted. This would only escalate things. She caught the blow with her other hand, turned his wrist and nipped it, delivering a sedative.
“Agarran eyyah,” he yelled and then slumped to the ground.
“Maldita sea,” said the cool one with the musket in a soft voice. He turned to the other men. “Todos ustedes oído el Capitán.”
“Puede que acaba de disparar contra eyyah?” said one, his voice going up in pitch at the end.
“Que era una orden,” said the cool one, putting his musket on the rocks and walking toward Tiana with a deliberate tread. When he reached her, he held his hand out—palm up—and looked her in the eye. “Por favor?” he said with a slight bow.
Tiana, seeing and smelling no harm there, took him by the hand. He squeezed it gently and said, “Queda usted detenido.” He let go of her then pointed at his hand. “Mano,” he said. He raised both hands. “Manos.” He pointed to his foot. “Pie.”
Tiana copied the bow he had given her. She pointed to both of her feet. “Pies?”
The man showed his teeth though not in a snarl. “Si, pies!” He expelled his breath with short, vocalized bursts. Endorphin markers increased in his odor... interesting.
He walked to the one still trapped under the bag, making sure Tiana could see his every action. Then he took the man's musket by the barrel and dragged it to where his own gun lay.
He went to the sleeping leader and bent down to touch his neck, feeling for a pulse then nodded and gave another order. The oarsmen took the unconscious man to a shady rock, pillowed his head with a jacket and turned him on his side.
The calm man returned to Tiana then pointed to himself, gesturing to his chest, he said, “Marcos…” He pointed to himself again. “me… yamo…” he made a motion of something coming out of his mouth. “Marcos…”
He was named Marcos. It was an efficient lesson; he'd given her both his name and a verb in one step. Tiana showed her teeth, imitating the man’s earlier expression. She pointed to herself. “Me yamo…” she rattled off her full name in Nii, and when she interpreted his confused dismay, she said, “Me yamo Tiana.” She touched him on the shoulder.
“Bien, Tiana,” he said, showing his teeth again.
It took a full two hours to learn all the nouns, pronouns and verbs the sailors could come up with or demonstrate. But by directing her own lessons, she figured out the gendered nouns and verb tenses. In another hour, she was communicating, with Marcos correcting her grammar as she went.
When the sun was overhead, Marcos held up his hand to pause the lesson. “When will the captain wake, Tiana?”
“I can wake him when I desire, Marcos.”
“We need water and food. We've worked long this day already and have no water.”
“There is the sea,” Tiana said. “Can you not drink of it?”
“Can you?”
“Yes. Why? Can you not?”
“La sal would make us sick.”
“La sal?”
Marcos went over to a rock near the shore where salt rime had gathered and scraped a chunk onto his hand. “La sal,” he said, handing it to her.
“You have water without la sal on your vessel?”
“Yes.”
Tiana's opinion of human's jumped. They were brave to explore an ocean they could not drink in such primitive vessels.
“Do you think it safe for me to wake the captain, or is it better if he sleeps more?”
Marcos paused. “I think the captain is very tired and needs rest,” he replied.
Tiana grinned; she had learned several humano mannerisms, their meaning and the names for them. Grinning was a useful tool showing subtle shades of meaning.
Teniente Marcos Rodriguez was proving to be a valuable resource. She had learned enough Español to understand his words after the captain had told the men to “grab her”. He had seen from the start that she didn't want to kill anyone. By obeying his captain’s orders, to the letter rather than the intent, he had bought an opportunity for her to find a solution. And with careful suggestions—once she could speak their language—he showed her how. This way everyone lived.
“Will you take him back to your vessel now?”
“He needs space in the boat, and you will need clothes. I will send Esteban and Alejandro back with Alférez Ruis so he can rest his sore leg as he considers the stupidity of pointing a weapon before thinking. They will come back and bring clothing. I will give them strict instructions on what to say and do while we wait for them here.”
Tiana nodded. “The captain should have water trickled into his mouth several times each day.”
Marcos nodded then went to the waiting rowboat to talk to the men. Tiana listened in, noting es
pecially the part about saying nothing regarding her tail. It was obvious her hearing surpassed theirs, so they didn't know she'd been filling in her lessons by listening to their conversations. It gave her context clues; the language was a cipher. Since she remembered everything she heard, she could always go back and fill in meaning as her language skills grew.
Code breaking was one of her favorite games.
Marcos trudged back across the beach to her, his forehead wrinkled. When he reached Tiana, he paused, before speaking. “Tiana, I hope we can communicate well enough now for me to say this. I have studied our world from childhood and became a mariner to explore it. I know you are not from this world. Your gifts of mind are surprising. Though you wear no clothes, your harness, your tools, knives, spyglass and the cloth that contains your belongings is advanced beyond anything I've seen. You are fast, stronger than two men and you can drink from the sea. It is plain you are not human. It is better my shipmates don't know this. I think you have come in peace to our world. Is this true?”
“Yes, Marcos, it is true.”
“From where have you come? Another world around our sun?”
“No. I came from worlds much farther away in pursuit of enemies of my people. They came here and they will try to harm your world as they have many others. We are all in danger. I am a warrior, like you, but I come in peace to your world. I must find them as soon as I can.”
“Do you know where they are?” She heard his heart beating faster.
Tiana nodded. Using a patch of sand close by, she sketched the outline of the continent to the west and the group of islands where they sat now. She pointed at the islands. “Us,” she said then moved her finger to the northern tip of the continent. “Them.”
Marcos put his head in his hands. For a time he was silent. “I must think how I can help you,” he said at last. “It is far from here.”
Tiana nodded and touched his shoulder. Were humans like Marcos rare? An image of touching Darmien the same way popped into her mind and her chest grew tight.
Would the war kill this one too? The others? Their whole world?
The parade of those fallen over the ages had grown long in her memory.
Marcos looked up. “I told the men to bring a garment to conceal your tail. Will you wear it?”
Tiana nodded agreement. “The captain was angry when I threw his sword in the water, she said. “I should retrieve it.”
“That would be unwise in sight of the crew.”
“I will go behind that rock and stay under water until I return there.”
Marcos’s mouth gaped. “Do you not need to breathe?”
“I will breathe before and after. Besides, I am thirsty, and I can drink from the sea. There is a high rock beneath the water not far from where it landed. I will place it on that and we can fish it up with a hook. When I finish, I will get my boat from the other side of the island.”
“Do you need help?”
“It will be faster if I go alone, and you cannot leave the captain.”
Marcos nodded. “I thought to send Alejandro, but if you can be quick, it is better. We carry messages and the wind may not favor us if we wait.” He took the spyglass from the captain’s pocket and trained it on la Niña Bonita. “No one is looking,” he said.
Tiana stepped behind the rocks and slid into the water. When she returned to the shore, she used the rocks to conceal her as she ran to where she had hidden her canoe. Her sunscreen was waterproof, but she checked her body to make sure the soot-blackened lotion was still hiding her stripes.
When she returned to the inlet, the ship’s boat was just landing on the beach. She lowered her canoe to a flat spot behind a boulder. Marcos held his hand up to keep her behind the rock then went to the boat and took a parcel from Alejandro.
He walked up the beach to where she was waiting, untying the parcel as he came. When he reached her, he spread out the garment for her to see.
She grinned at the yards of black fabric and felt it between her fingers; it was shiny and smooth to the touch.
“The fabric is la seda,” Marcos said. “It was one of my sister’s.”
“Please thank her for me.”
It would certainly conceal her tail and it was even beautiful, but it was impractical except for sitting or standing.
“Is this made to fit a large female of your kind?”
Marcos smiled. “A smallish young woman about as tall as you, but she thought the dress was not… de España enough for her taste and asked me to sell it. She is quite la maja.” He made the vocalized bursts again.
Tiana considered a moment. If she altered it..., but no, then Marcos couldn't sell it.
She unfastened her harness and slid the dress over her head. Marcos helped her get it turned the right way and pulled the lacings on the back tight. This brought the top snug around her waist and lifted her breasts until they pushed together in a valley above the neckline. The hem fell past her spring heels, but left her toes peeking out.
Marcos showed her the differences in their feet, and she trimmed her toenails with her knife, though it was hard to reach them now. Then she stood and slipped the harness over the dress.
She turned to Marcos, cocking an eyebrow for a question as she had seen him do. He held up a finger and pulled another piece of cloth from the package. With a flourish, he draped it over her face then pulled a wing of it over her nose, veiling her face.
“This is normal for your women?”
Marcos nodded.
Tiana smiled. That was a happy chance. She had already made small changes to her face, but without looking at a female, she doubted her face would pass a close inspection.
Marcos, turned and grabbed the line tied to her canoe and pulled on it. The foamsteel craft slid forward. “It’s metal, but lighter than spruce wood,” he said. “Is it hollow?”
“It has gas bubbles trapped throughout the metal.”
“Ingenioso!”
She nodded; it was—if you stopped taking it for granted for a moment.
Marcos and the crewman loaded the captain into the rowboat. She noted Alejandro took no particular care with the limp body.
“Cuidado,” Marcos said to him.
Perhaps the captain was not so popular with the crew.
Marcos gave her his hand, helping her manage boarding in the long dress, then tied her canoe to the stern and clambered into the boat. On the trip out, he watched where she kept her gaze and steered the rowboat to the sword’s resting place. When they reached it, Tiana nodded to the port side. Marcos halted the boat, pulled a hook and line from a storage compartment under the seat and snagged the sword belt to haul it dripping from the water.
“Very good, Teniente,” said Alejandro. “I’m sure that will help soothe the captain’s temper when he wakes.” He grinned, showing crooked teeth and pulled on the oars again.
When they arrived, a stretcher board for the captain hung over the copper-clad side of la Niña Bonita. Marcos supervised the operation then scampered up the netting. “Wait for a rope, Tiana,” he said as he disappeared over the rail.
When a rope with a wooden seat attached slid down from above, she picked up her bag and sat on the board. The rope snapped tight, but until she put her toes on the nets and did most of the lifting, it didn't move. At the top, she stepped out of the seat and hoisted the bag to her shoulder.
“Muchas Gracias, Señores,” she said.
“Por nada, Señora,” they chorused, bowing their heads.
A young man in a blue coat with a yellow decoration on his left shoulder came running up the deck and bowed low. “Princess Tiana, I am Guardiamarina Abarca, the teniente has ordered me to show you to the officer’s quarters. May I take your bag?”
“Thank you, but no,” she said. “There are fragile things inside.” She didn’t want to embarrass him, knowing he wouldn't be able to lift it.
“As you wish. Will you follow me, please?”
Abarca led her to a hatchway near the stern and d
own a stair. After a short hallway, he came to a door and tapped on it three times. “Perdon, Teniente, Princess Tiana is here at your request.”
Marcos opened the door, “Thank you, Abarca,” he said. “Please tell Alférez Ruis I would like him to raise anchor and set course for Puerto Soledad as soon as possible.”
He invited Tiana inside with an elegant sweep of his arm, and she stepped forward.
“Si Señor,” Abarca said. He wheeled at once and clattered back down the hallway.
Tiana looked around the room. It was just large enough to lie down and stretch your arms, but it held two hammocks, one over the other, braced at each end and holding narrow mattresses. There was also a shelf of leather-bound books and a small table with two stools stacked beneath it. A glass-covered portal let in light and showed the horizon—sun, sea and island—slowly traversing from right to left as the boat finished coming around.
“I’ve had Alférez Ruis string himself a hammock in the captain’s cabin for now. Sadly, I must see to my duties soon.”
He tapped his fingers on his sword hilt then said, “Before I do, I wanted to get you started on our written language, as I promised you this morning. I suspect that will be the faster way for you to advance. I have written out the letters to show the rules for pronouncing them. Happily, Español is an easy language for this.”
He showed her the letters, pronouncing the sounds for each of them. It was simple, the only odd part was the case of having two different letters pronounced almost the same, so a word that sounded like yamo was spelled llamo.
When they finished with that exercise, Marcos undid the strap holding the library in place, took a large book from the shelf and plunked it on the table. The letters on the spine read Diccionario de la lengua castellana. “This is a book containing most of the words in our language and their meanings,” he said.
