by Socha, Walt
Kristi’s left hand rubbed her abdomen as she walked, her eyes unfocused.
Brent stopped breathing. Damn. His eyes shifted to Alita’s tear stained face and he stepped forward. As the two women approached the fire circle he held out his arms. Alita let go of Kristi and slipped into Brent’s embrace. He could feel her gasping breaths. “We will keep his memory alive.” He felt her pull back and he let her go. Then watched as she was enveloped in Potts’s arms.
“I’ll write down some of my recollections in Kristi’s journal,” Potts said as Alita returned to Kristi’s side.
After Kristi led Alita to her hut, Brent glanced to Joe. “How’d it go?”
“Not sure.” Joe dropped his tools and fell into a chair. “I still don’t know why she only wanted me to help with the burial.” He looked over his shoulder in the direction of the small mound that overlooked the river. Tomorrow, everyone would gather to say his or her remembrances.
“I’m guessing she figures you’re her only family?” Potts voiced slurred slightly.
Joe didn’t seem to notice Potts’s voice. “I pulled him out of the water. Then I put him in the ground.”He leaned forward, head in hands. “Yeah, I’m a real help to Alita.”
“Hey, you’re here for her.”The slur in Potts’s voice was more pronounced. Joe still didn’t appear to notice.
“Given the situation, we aren’t doing that bad.” Brent didn’t feel that way, but Joe needed something to hang on to. “Hell, Joe, we’re trying to save a bunch of children in the middle of a war.”
“Do what you can.”Potts looked up, pupils wide. “Don’t obsess about what you can’t.”
“Sound advice.” Brent stood. More words he didn’t believe in. “I got to make the rounds and then relieve Larry.” He sized up Potts. “I’m not even close to tired. I’ll take an extra shift tonight.”
Chapter 51. Day 160 - August 13
“Make her squeal.” His father’s words followed Samatu as he led Nika away from the grinning Skullmen. He had won her for tonight. His first night with a slave. Samatu could feel the grinning Skullmen behind him.
The conscripted warriors kept their eyes down as he passed through them. They treated their women, free or slaves, better than did the Skullmen. Almost gently. Like Father had treated Mother before her death a hand of seasons ago.
His hut was small, just enough room for a sleeping skin and a small fire. But it would shield his first coupling from the laughing men. Moving through the low doorway, he led her to his sleeping skin. Nika followed his hand and knelt, passive. What should he do now? The other Skullmen called her the ‘leather bag,’ saying that penetrating her was like entering a hole in a hide. No response, not even fear.
After his eyes adjusted to the dark hut, lit only by stars through the smoke hole, he watched her face. Her eyes were closed.
Samatu pressed his hand against her shoulder and she lowered herself to the ground. He knelt and lifted one of her shoulders to turn her onto her back.
Uncertainty cut his excitement. He laid his hand along side of her face, smooth, now, with healing. His fingers brushed the hair, encountering knots. With open fingers, he combed her hair. Hair so soft.
Samatu shifted closer to her head. With both hands, he spread out her hair, sliding fingers through the rich strands. Over and over again.
A small cry, almost inaudible, froze his motions. Nika sobbed again, eyes glistening in the starlit hut.
“Why do you cry?” Samatu heard slaves crying as the Skullmen enjoyed them. But he hadn’t even penetrated her yet.
Nika covered her face with her hands, sobs increasing. Samatu rocked back onto his heels. Should he just enter her? His excitement had softened. He lifted her leather skirt. Felt along her thigh. Stopped when the muscles in her leg tightened.
Her sobs slowed.
“Why do you cry?” He asked again.
“I thought you would be different.” Nika’s voice was low, barely audible.
“How?”
“You seemed kind.”
The words destroyed any remaining excitement. He lay down next to her. She stiffened, but relaxed when he didn’t touch her.
“Tell me about your previous life.”
><><
A sliver of the new moon shown through the smoke hole. He rolled onto his side to discover Nika awake and staring at him.
Samatu smiled at the pleasant experience of her closeness.
Nika touched his arm. “You should enter me. If I do not please you, I will be beaten.”
><><
Samatu woke to shouts. At his side, Nika slept, face soft in the grey light of the quarter moon falling through the smoke hole.
He shifted from her contact and rose. Pulling back the entrance covering, he looked around at the dim village. Movement attracted his attention and, leaving his hut, he followed the sounds of running feet toward the shore of the Salt Waters.
“What happened?” Samatu called to another running warrior.
“Strangers.”
“From upriver?” Samatu’s heart pounded in his chest.
“From beyond the Salt Waters.”
When he reached the shoreline, he found a giant canoe rocking in the waves. A thin tree grew from its center, trailing vines and ripped leather.
“Look.” Someone pointed.
A shaggy man with hair the color of dry grasses stood at the front of the canoe. He raised an empty hand before swaying and falling out of sight into the interior of the boat.
Samatu froze. In the moonlight, the stranger’s skin had shown pale. Like that of the Sky Goddess.
Chapter 52. Day 186 - September 8
Kristi straightened and brushed the dirt from her skirt. She pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped her face. Brent claimed this was the year 1054 which put them in the middle of a global warming period. It certainly felt like it. She cast a careful eye around her little garden. Along with the herbs, the weeds thrived in the heat. She tolerated help with the weeding but preferred to work alone, enjoying the mindless, cathartic activity.
Kristi scanned the sky. No clouds. They’d gotten rain no more than once a week, another effect of the warming trend. She’d need another few buckets of water today to keep her plants happy, and that wasn’t cathartic. Larry had brought a roll of plastic tubing, but not enough for an irrigation line. Just another item on the long list of things they wished they’d brought.
Kristi stretched, sighing as she gazed around at Haven. Further down Haven’s shallow hill, Marisa knelt on the ground, scraping a deer hide from one of Brent’s kills. The Elder had started resisting her medical teaching. To the north and uphill, Brent worked with several of the children on the archery range. She needed to make peace with him for the good of Haven. It wasn’t his fault he was a man.
And what of being a woman? She resisted the impulse to rub her abdomen. What was her share of guilt, if any, for Levanu’s death? Dead because she wanted…what? Love? Adoration by a kind and gentle man? Or had it just be lust? Even now, she didn’t know.
At the south end of Haven, a rider crossed Salamander Creek and turned to cross the Snake to the horse corral. Larry? Something large lay across the back of the saddle. Several of the children appeared to run toward him, but he waved them off, arms wild and angry. One boy turned and ran her way. Panic surged through her. She had never seen Larry gesture to the children like that before.
Dropping her hoe, Kristi hurried out of the herb patch and toward the running child.
“Larry captured a white clay warrior,” the young boy said after he came to a stop in front of her and took a deep breath. His face flushed with excitement. “Larry wants you to look at the captive. He is sick.”
As Kristi ran, she saw that Larry had crossed the Snake. He’d dismounted a few yards from the small tack shed at the east side of the horse corral. Several children milled about on the village side of the stream.
She waded through the water and climbed the shallow bank. Larry stood ov
er the body, tightening the rope that tied the stranger’s hands together. Another rope bound his feet.
“You may not want to get too close.” His eyebrows pinched together as he nodded toward the bound man. “I found him a mile or so past the fish weir. I’m guessing I spooked his companions and they left him. Saw a canoe disappearing downriver when I looked around after tying him up.”
Kristi glanced at Larry and knelt a few feet away from the man. Sweat poured from the unconscious man’s face. A rash covered his forehead.
“I’ve already touched him.” Larry knelt on the other side of the man. “He’s got a fever. Just tell me what to do.”
“Open his mouth.”
Larry pulled the man’s mouth open. Blisters covered the inside of the mouth and tongue.
“My first thought is smallpox,” Kristi said, scrutinizing the sweating warrior. “But how? Is Brent way off on the supernova date?”
Kristi looked back at Haven. The children were lined up on the other side of the stream. How should she handle this? “You’re ex-military. Were you immunized against smallpox?”
“Yeah, that and a lot others.” Larry nodded toward the opposite side of the creek. “The young’uns sure ain’t.” Kristi stepped back. She felt a slight breeze from the west. She was north of the sick man. She stepped back further. “I’m immunized. Part of my medical plans.” She gazed across the stream at the children. “Look, whoever comes in contact with the patient can not interact with the village.” Damn, but what else could she do? “Can you handle taking care of him?”
“If it protects the kids?” Larry didn’t wait for an answer. “Yes.”
“Make him comfortable. Give him water.” Kristi moved toward the tack shed. “I’ll strip the hut. Move him in when it’s empty. We need to quarantine this side of the Snake.”
><><
Joe watched as Niminu stared into the fire for several breaths.
“We should kill him,” the Elder said, passing the pipe to Brent.
“He is an enemy.” Using a green stick bent back on itself, Brent picked up a small coal and placed it on the bowl. He sucked in a short breath. Looking puzzled, he glanced at Potts, who gave a small shrug. “However, we believe in helping all peoples.” Brent shook out the ashes. Joe accepted the pipe and leather bag of tobacco. He sniffed the bag. Potts had added a little of his cannabis. Probably not a bad idea. Joe filled the bowl, lit it, and puffed once. “He has knowledge of Tork. If possible, we should heal him.”
Joe paused and eyed the clay pipe in his hand. The bowl mimicked a gaping mouth. The artist had carved minute animal heads along the sides of the short thick pipe stem before firing. The Elders claimed that it was made from high quality clay that was no longer available. Another trading casualty of Tork’s war.
Joe looked at the villagers around the fire. Kristi, Brent, and Potts had argued for keeping the sick warrior alive. The male Elders all recommended death. The elder women were split, Canisa siding with Kristi. No surprise there, she’d been a fan of Kristi ever since she’d healed her son, Levanu.
Joe shifted his gaze across the creek toward the former tack hut where Larry was quarantined with the patient. Damn this leader thing. But the village was split. “We will do our best to keep the warrior alive. Kristi, please continue helping Larry from a distance.” Joe looked at each man in turn. “If the warrior recovers, we will ask him about Tork’s plans.”
Most nodded their assent immediately. Niminu finally lowered his head, and Joe exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Maybe Potts’s herb had helped.
Joe then stared at the grandmothers. Canisa met his eyes and nodded. Marisa and Gusama both frowned. He continued gazing at them. Finally, after several minutes, they glanced at each other before turning back to lower their heads in assent.
“Kristi, will you please tell us about quarantine procedures?”
As Kristi described cells and viruses, Joe watched the villagers’ faces. Almost all had peered through Kristi’s microscope. But not all accepted what they saw, especially Marisa and Gusama. He suspected it was a power and prestige problem. Another problem to be solved later.
He caught Alita’s eye. She held her first in front of her chest, thumb up. He smiled at this gesture that she’d learned it back at the ranch. He also felt oddly comforted by it.
Chapter 53. Day 188 - September 10
Joe stepped off the ladder onto the tower’s platform to face Potts.
“Hope he’ll be okay.” The older man leaned on the tower’s railing as he gazed east across Snake Creek.
Joe joined Potts at the railing. Haven filled the triangular shaped clearing between Snake Creek and the smaller Salamander. The collection of huts, tents, and small fort presented an idyllic scene in the later afternoon light, with the shadow of the trees at the summit of Haven’s small hill just starting to darken the ground around the dwellings. But on the far side of the Snake, a lonely Larry squatted in front of a small fire. “He’s been immunized against most every infectious disease there is.”
“Is today’s smallpox the same as in the twenty-first century?” Potts lifted an eyebrow in Joe’s direction.
“Never thought about it.” Joe heaved in a breath. “But probably.”
“I think some of the Elders are having second thoughts about their gods.” Potts pointed to the edge of the tower’s clearing. “Check that section of log over there. Niminu started carving on it this morning.”
“Could it just be something traditional?”
“After our meeting yesterday, Marisa and Niminu were chattering away. Mostly Marisa was talking. Too low and too fast for me to catch.” Potts shook his head. “I’d hate to be married to her.”
“Just so they don’t cause any disruptions.”
“Well, I better get back and check on dinner.” Potts picked up a jacket lying in the corner of the platform. “The kids sure have an appetite.”
“Say...” Joe hesitated, looking at his hands, the right one worrying a finger on the left. Should he even talk about it? He dropped his hands and looked at his friend.
Potts’s eyebrows rose. “It’s about Alita.”
A smile cracked Potts’s face. “What about the little woman?”
“That’s the problem. She’s not a woman no matter how much…I might want her to be.” He swallowed. “She’s only a young girl.” Joe gazed toward Haven. Figures bustled around the cooking fire. One was probably Alita.
“She’s a woman in this world.” “And she’s about half my age.”
“Is that a problem for her?” Potts shook out the jacket. “Or is it a problem for you?” He slipped on the jacket and stepped to the rail alongside Joe.
“Any relationship beyond friendship would be taking advantage of her. I’m not really a person to her. I’m the hero from the Far Lands.” Joe watched Potts as the old cook stared toward Haven. In spite of the months spent here—or because of them, he looked healthy. His eyes were clear and his muscles toned. The only obvious wear was the increased number of wrinkles radiating from those eyes.
“Biologically, it’s not a problem. And younger may even be better for childbearing.” Potts turned to meet Joe’s gaze. “The only other factor is social. And that’s not a problem here.” Once again, his eyebrows rose.
Joe walked to the southern rail and peered at the Susquehanna. “It’s…just not right.”
“That’s all in your head.” Potts moved to the ladder and descended a few steps before pausing. “And she’s damned cute. But you know that.”The footsteps continued to descend.
Chapter 54. Day 191 - September 13
Joe climbed up through the floor of the tower platform, gasping for breath.
“Didn’t need to run. Ain’t like they’re going away.” Larry knelt and, using the railing for support, sighted down their remaining rifle. “Should I take a shot? I could get lucky. It’s only a mile.”
“You’re unlikely to drop one. Save the cartridge.” Joe picked up the binoc
ulars and viewed the opposite shore. “Actually, I’d like to keep them in the open so we can see what they’re up to.”
“I know what they’re up to.” Larry grimaced. “But you’re right.” He stood and let out a deep breath.
“What’s your count?”
“About seven canoes so far.” Larry squinted. “Eight.
Each about ten warriors.”
“I just don’t get it.” Joe lowered the binoculars.
“Why even bother with us?”
“Well, we did royally piss him off.” Larry grunted. “Several times.”
“Yeah, but if Samatu was correct about Tork’s main base being on the Chesapeake, then he ought to be busy. That area was a major population center. Or is, if the year is 1054.” Joe’s shoulders drooped. “Shit, we can’t be a threat; we moved upriver to get away from the guy.”
“All I’m wondering is how to kill almost a hundred warriors.” Larry gave up on his attempt at a smile. “They’re bound to have our guns. Just hope they can’t shoot straight.”
“Probably can’t. But luck hasn’t been with us lately.” “Just too fucking bad we weren’t able to get any info out of my captive. He may have had some news about that.” He stretched. “All that work nursing the jerk and he died on us.” He looked down at his clothes. “Cost me a set of clothing and us a couple of good blankets.”
Joe let out a breath. Kristi had explicitly instructed Larry to burn his clothing as well as the blankets that he and the sick warrior had used. An action that resulted in more disapproval from Marisa.
“Any further thoughts on our defenses?” Joe pulled out a map and unfolded it against the tower’s railing.
Larry moved to Joe’s side. “Hey, another nice contour map.”
“Yeah, well I did Civil Engineering in school. Map making was useful.”
Larry’s finger stabbed the mouth of Snake Creek on the map. “All that open area will tempt them into a direct attack. And those downed trees’ll help keep ‘em in a tight bunch.” He blew out a long breath. “At least near the clearing.”
