“And it only took the destruction of our world to bring this prophecy about?” asked Kurt with a huff.
“There’s no telling what will be the final outcome in our world,” said Levine, shrugging his shoulders. “I am sure there will be survivors, possibly a billion or more. Enough to recover to the point we were at before the war? Maybe not. And maybe we don’t need to get to that level again. In the meantime we have a new world to explore.”
“A big fucking world,” said Kurt, looking around and seeing a number of people heading their way across the clearing.
“And we have the time to explore it, my friend,” said Levine, clapping him on the back and looking at the civilians, along with a couple of Polizie, heading toward them. “Remember that. You have a luxury none of the great men of the past possessed. Unlimited time. Now let us see what these good people want. And how we can be of service.”
* * *
“That is the one,” said Hunt Leader Lasasadar Klinisura, looking out across the field at the two big humans doing something to one of their strange wagons.
“How can you tell?” asked another of the hunters, the dressed carcass of a fully grown deer across his shoulders.
“I can just tell,” said the hunt leader, shifting his own burden a bit on his shoulders. “It is like the Goddess is telling me. Like a voice in my head is telling me that I am looking at the savior of our world.”
“Then we should greet him,” said the third man of the six who stood burdened with venison.
“I don’t know if that is a good idea,” said a fourth, giving a head toss of negation. “You saw what their soldiers did to those Grogatha fools that attacked them. A hundred savage warriors taken down in an instant.”
“I see none of their war machines here,” said Lasasadar, looking over his men. “Nor any of their soldiers. And I wish to look upon this savior my sister has told me so much about.” He flashed a smile at the other Elves. “I would see him and speak to him before she does.”
“You would go to your death for sibling rivalry?” asked one of the men with a short laugh.
“I will be fine,” said the hunt leader, looking back out to the field, where the two humans were starting to strap themselves into armor of a strange design. “The rest of you stay here, or find places to put your gifts where the humans can find them. No use in too many of us going out there and scaring them, when one may seem harmless enough.”
“No use all of us being destroyed by their God weapons, when one will do,” said one of the men with a laugh.
“There is that,” agreed the hunt master with a smile.
He turned back to the clearing, resettled his deer on his shoulders, and strode out into the open, wondering if this was a mistake. His skin crawled as the humans noticed him and started yelling and pointing his way. He thought that they might just kill him before finding out why he was here. Especially when two in identical blue outfits started running his way and pulling strange looking objects from their waists to point at them. He wasn’t sure what they were, but could only be God weapons of a smaller sort.
And then he saw the two large humans running his way, moving faster than any hominid he had ever seen, and he knew he had been correct.
* * *
Kurt looked up when he heard the yelling and shouting. Levine was pulling on his greaves, and stopped in mid motion to look over at where all the attention was directed. Kurt looked over at the figure coming from the forest and allowed his eyes to focus on the man in deerskin clothing, looking like something out of an old frontier epic. The hilt of a long knife jutted from his belt, and the stave of a bow appeared over his shoulder. Both of his hands rested on the carcass of some animal. Kurt focused even harder and gasped at the beauty of the man’s face, framed in long blond hair. Then he noticed the points of the man’s ears sticking from out of the hair.
“Is that what I think it is?” asked Kurt, standing up and dropping the pauldron he had been getting ready to don.
“If you think it is an Elf,” said Levine with a smile, “then I guess it is.”
“And just the sight of it is causing a panic,” said Kurt, watching as people ran away from the apparition, while the two Polizei who were in the clearing ran toward it. “I think we had better intervene before something bad happens.”
“And how do we know he is a friend?” asked Levine, running beside his friend as they tore off toward the Elf.
“Because he brought us food?” said Kurt, pushing himself to get there before the policemen. “In the old country that was always a good indication of friendship.”
They ran the last hundred meters like Olympians despite their armor, and were hardly breathing hard as they halted twenty meters from the Elf, who had stopped in place and was looking at the two policemen, who had him covered with the service pistols.
“Calmly, mein Herren,” said Kurt, holding out both hands. “I don’t think he means us any harm.”
“We heard stories over the radio about these guys,” said the younger of the policemen.
“I’m sure these are different people,” said Levine.
Kurt nodded as he looked at the Elf. He found he could look into the man’s soul, if that was what it was, and that energy signature that was clear to his eyes. And he saw no evil in the creature, just an abiding goodness.
“And who are you, mein Herrs,” said the older of the two policemen, who held his gun in a stance that could cover them as well as the Elf if need be.
“I am the Count von Mannerheim,” said Kurt in a commanding tone, hoping that the title might still carry some authority. It must have, as both men looked at each other and lowered their weapons.
“You are responsible for his actions, Count,” said the older of the two men, holstering his pistol.
“And I think we will eat fresh venison tonight,” said Levine, looking into the eyes of the Elf.
[Can you understand me] he beamed to the Elf. [Why don’t you put that damned carcass on the ground.]
[You are here] sent the Elf, moving to pull the deer off his shoulders and drop it to the ground. [And this is a gift to you and your people. And are many more kills which will be left along your path.]
[And who are you?] asked Levine, joining in the conversation.
[I am Hunt Leader Lasasadar Klinisura] beamed the man with pride in his mental tone. [I am a leader of the Conyastaya people, and a leader in the resistance to the Ellala overlords.]
[I take it that you are a different people from the Elves that have attacked our people] sent Kurt, looking over the Elf. [The Ellala.]
[The people of the cities] said the Elf in agreement. [And we are the people of the woods.]
[High Elves versus Wood Elves] sent Levine to Kurt on a personal beam. [Both similar species, but not entirely the same.]
[And there are two of you] sent the Elf with a tone of delight. [We expected one immortal, but two.]
[And why do you call us immortals?] asked Levine, nodding his head.
[That is what you are, are you not?]
[We have much to talk about, friend Lasasadar] said Kurt, reaching down a hand and pulling the deer up from the ground. [So why don’t we give this to someone who will cook it for us, and you tell us about your world, and we’ll tell you about ours.]
The Elf made a strange gesture and smiled at the men, and followed them as they walked back to the car.
Chapter Eight
Private First Class Salvadore Maritoni cursed under his breath as he dug yet another fighting position. The ground was a bit softer than it had been at the last location, and he felt a little bit stronger hefting the entrenching tool. But it again felt like a waste of time to dig in somewhere when they were probably going to move again, soon.
As long as we don’t move like we did the last time, thought the Private with a shudder. They had warning that an attack was coming. He had been able to make it back to the Striker, along with the rest of the squad. And then all hell had broken loose. The noise,
the way the inner hull of the vehicle heated up, the sinking feeling as it tilted over. And then it was all gone. The hull was still a little hot, but they were sitting upright and the noise was gone.
And just where the hell are we? thought the Private for the umpteenth time. The air was fresher, the sun brighter. It didn’t smell or look like Central Europe anymore. The trees looked the same, mostly. But there were more of them and fewer, make that no, buildings. And there were rumors circulating that they were not on Earth anymore. About Elves and other fantastic creatures that troops were running into. And in many cases engaging in combat.
“Seen anything, Private,” said a voice behind Maritoni.
He almost dropped the entrenching tool when he jumped. He settled down when he realized it was just the stupid second Louey that his platoon had been saddled with. He turned to look at the officer and gave him a false smile.
“Not a thing, sir,” said Maritoni, noting that Sergeant Jackson was accompanying the officer. [I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be looking for, you shithead,] thought the Private.
“What did you say to me, Private?” hissed the officer, Lt. Mercer, his face going red.
“Just, not a thing, sir,” said Maritoni, confused at the way the officer was reacting. [He’s such a dumb shit martinet.]
“I am not a dumb shit martinet,” yelled the officer. “I want him up on charges for insubordination Sergeant Jackson.”
“What the hell are you talking about, sir,” said Jackson, looking shocked, glancing back and forth from face to face. [Do we have someone losing it,] thought the Sergeant.
[Damn,] thought Maritoni, listening to the exchange in his head. [What the fuck is going on here. Are they crazy? Or am I the one going fucking crazy.]
“What the fuck do you think is going on, Private,” yelled the officer.
“I didn’t say that, sir,” said Maritoni. “I might have thought it. But I definitely didn’t say it.”
“I heard him say it too, sir,” said Jackson, nodding his head. “Clear as day. But his lips didn’t move.”
“What the hell?” said Mercer, reaching up under the edge of his helmet and scratching his head. Then a smile touched his face and he looked at the two men.
“Let’s try something, men,” he said. [I’m thinking of a movie now. Lord of the Rings.]
“I saw that movie,” said Maritoni. “I loved it.”
“I didn’t get into the Orcs and shit,” said Jackson, “but the battle scenes were pretty damned good.”
“Telepathy,” said the Lieutenant, his smile growing wider. “It’s fucking telepathy. And we all have it.”
“Holy shit,” said Maritoni, scowling. “I’m not sure I like that. It’s bad enough when my mouth can get me in trouble. Now I’ve got to watch my thoughts.”
“We still can’t court martial you for your thoughts,” said the Lieutenant, shaking his head. “As long as you aren’t plotting murder or mutiny in your mind. Still, it might be a good idea to learn how to guard our thoughts. But the tactical implications.”
“Depends on the range, sir,” said Jackson.
“I couldn’t read the thoughts behind that, Sergeant,” said the officer.
“Good,” said Jackson. “It works. Concentrating on not letting someone read my thoughts. What I meant was the range will determine the tactical utility. If we have to be within sight for it to work it will be somewhat useful if we want to sneak up on someone. But not for controlling a firefight.”
“We’ll have to kick this upstairs,” said Mercer, looking at both of the men. “Hopefully they can work out the utility of this thing.”
[As long as they don’t think we’re crazy,] thought Maritoni, then cursed under his breath as he realized he had projected that thought.
“There is that factor, Private,” said the officer smiling. “We need to see the Captain together, so we can demonstrate this thing.”
“Unless she has it too,” said Jackson. “Then we can just let her read our thoughts.”
What the fuck, thought Maritoni, guarding that thought as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned quickly, jumping behind the tripod mounted machine gun and swiveling it toward the trees.
“What’s that?” said Jackson in a hushed voice as he plopped down next to the Private and pointed at the small, squat figure leaving the wood line and walking toward them.
The Lieutenant joined them on the ground while calls of alarm sounded from the fighting positions being constructed on either side of them. The Dwarf, for that is what the men thought as the creature approached, looked nervously at the men who were now hugging the dirt. It continued to walk forward, probably not realizing that the things pointed at it were weapons.
“Hold your fire,” yelled the Lieutenant, first in one direction, then the next. “Let’s see what he wants before we start another war.”
The creature was just a tad over four feet tall, but much broader on the chest and shoulders than most humans. He had a long beard that reached to below his waist. The creature was dressed in a forest green pullover, with brown leggings showing underneath, and brown short boots on his feet. He carried nothing in his hands, and had them open at his waist as he walked forward.
[It’s a damned Dwarf,] thought Maritoni, keeping the machine gun sighted on the creature. [But is it a good Dwarf like from Lord of the Rings. Or is it one of those evil Dwarfs from Northern European legends?]
“It might not be either, Private,” said Lt. Mercer, reading his thoughts. [He’s not a complete dumb shit] thought the officer.
Maritoni looked over at the officer and smiled. [Why thank you, sir].
Maritoni jumped a bit at the return from the officer, then another thought hit him. He stared at the slowly advancing creature and concentrated on it, trying to glean its thoughts. Something came back into his mind. At first it was a jumble of impressions, none of which made sense. The impressions clarified after an instant and he could sense images in his mind, as well as the sounds of some kind of words. But he couldn’t make sense of the words.
“You trying too?” said Lt. Mercer, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I’m picking up something from his mind, but what, I can’t tell.
“Look out over there,” called the officer, shifting his attention to where a half dozen more of the short creatures were leaving the woods. “Don’t shoot unless they do something hostile,” he yelled to the rest of his troops.
The creatures sure don’t look hostile, thought the Private, this time guarding his thoughts. But he could see from the massively muscled arms of one of them, as well as the heavy shoulders and chests of them all, that they might be hell to handle in a close fight. Just like the Dwarves of fantasy. None of them were armed though, with the exception of a couple of belt knives. And they surely wore no armor.
Sergeant Jackson stood up as the first Dwarf approached, pointing his rifle at the creature and gesturing for it to stop. The Dwarf seemed to recognize that some kind of weapon was being held in its direction, and again opened his hands. He glanced back over his shoulder for a moment, then sat on the ground in front of the Americans. The other Dwarves moved closer to the first, coming up to him and also taking seats, looking as harmless as could be.
“This is Lieutenant Mercer,” said the officer over his taccom unit, “calling Captain Melissa Sanger. Come in Captain.”
The officer listened for a moment on his com unit and then shook his head.
“Damned thing’s not working properly. I could hear her for a moment, then there was static. And the power reading is fine on the com.”
“We’ve been having a lot of trouble with the electronics,” said the Sergeant, continuing to stare at the sitting Dwarves. “Must be something to do with this place, because the techs can’t find anything wrong with the equipment.”
“I wouldn’t worry so much about the radio right now sir,” said Maritoni, pointing toward the woods.
Mercer attempted for a second to
read the Private’s thoughts, but only pulled up some sparse images. Boy’s already learned how to shield his thinking, thought the officer as he looked up. His mouth dropped open and he was sure he wasn’t doing a very good job of shielding his own thinking at that moment. But the sight that met his eyes was sure to surprise anyone.
The woman who was stepping from the woods was stunning, to say the least. Slender, with smallish breasts, she made the hearts of men flutter as her large blue eyes turned on them, sweeping the soldiers that guarded the perimeter. She wore a short gown of brilliant white, golden knee length boots on her feet. A chain of gold, supporting a glowing jewel, hung about her neck. She wore a golden belt with a sheathed dagger on it, and held a long staff in her hand. She moved with the grace of a hunting cat as she walked toward the men, her long blond hair flowing in the breeze that seemed to follow her, the sunlight dappling on her golden skin.
“Look at those ears,” said Maritoni, looking up from his position.
“She’s one of those damned Elves,” called out another soldier, pointing his rifle at her.
The Elf looked at the soldier without alarm, her eyes flashing. The man lowered his rifle, a stupid grin on his face. That alarmed Maritoni, who made sure that his machine gun was pointed straight at her. He also reached out with his mind, or thought that he did, trying to get into the woman’s brain.
The Elf woman frowned for a moment and the Private felt as if he had run straight into a brick wall. Then the woman seemed to realize what he was doing and the wall disappeared. Images moved through the soldier’s mind. At first he thought they were images he was capturing from the surface of her mind. But looking up at the faces of the Lieutenant and Sergeant Jackson showed that they were also receiving images. The woman was projecting into their brains the images she wanted them to see.
And all three men could glean from the images, along with the feelings that rode with them like a carrier wave, that the woman meant them no harm. In fact, the emotions were quite positive and welcoming. And there was a relief underlying that surface feeling, as if the woman were very glad to see them.
Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1 Page 10
