by Bob Blink
Asari, who had listened quietly with his full attention since Randy had begun talking, eventually interrupted his story and indicated their dinner was ready. Randy was suddenly aware of the fabulous aroma of freshly cooked meat, and watched as Asari pulled the spitted birds from over the fire, and recovered the baked tubers from the edge of the fire pit. He offered half to Randy, who was torn between the hunger he suddenly felt keenly, and his uncertainty about his ability to safely consume the local food. He still had some supplies remaining in his pack that might be the safer approach, at least until he ran out.
Asari noted his hesitation. “I have put nothing in the food,” he said. “What would it gain me? I could have killed you earlier, so why would I resort to trickery now?”
“I am not sure the food here is safe for me,” Randy explained, but even as he did so he sensed there was no risk.” Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but the strength of the feeling gave him a sense of certainty that was eerie.
Asari’s lips twitched. “You have no choice. We are weeks from anyone who might be able to help you, unless you wish to have a chat with Cheurt. What you have with you is not sufficient to sustain you even another few days. Besides, if your stories are true, Cheurt survived without problem in your world. It is likely the food of this world is equally safe for you. If not, I promise you I will bury you deep and carry your story back to those who need to know.”
Randy was less reassured by Asari’s outburst than he was by the feeling he couldn’t explain that was telling him he was in no danger from the food. Finally, he admitted to himself that Asari’s logic was correct; he really had no choice. To survive he needed to eat, and that meant eating the food that Asari would be able to provide.
Randy took the offered food, and quickly pulled off a leg and took a bite before he could lose his resolve. The warm juice filled his mouth and the tender, but gamey meat tasted wonderful. Despite intentions to go easy until he could see the effects of the unknown food, he found himself eagerly taking bite after bite. Asari showed him how to crack the shell of the tuber once it had cooled a bit, and suck the sweet paste from the center. Before long he had consumed his full share, and reached into his pack for his last water bottle. He twisted off the cap, and downed the whole bottle in a couple of long swallows.
Asari had watched all this with a sense of gratification, and now held out his hand for the empty plastic bottle. Randy handed it over, and was amused by the expression on the boy’s face when he felt how light the bottle was as well as his concern when he half crushed it under his grip having expected something far more study. After a few minutes of study, Asari walked over to a back corner of their enclosure, and dipped the bottle into a small pool of clear, cool water, that had accumulated in a depression in the rocks. The small trickle of water that fed the depression would soon join one of the many small streams in the area.
Asari handed the filled bottle to Randy and watched to see what he would do. Randy held up the bottle noting the clarity of the water, shrugged, and without hesitation took a deep swallow. It was cool and without any particular taste. He drank half the bottle, replaced the cap, and then rummaged in his pack until he found the second empty bottle that he offered to Asari, who smiled his thanks and delight. He filled his own bottle, then returned to his seat so Randy could continue his tale.
Randy had decided the time for talking was over. Asari had listened with rapt attention earlier, but how much had been the boy enthralled by a fanciful tale, and how much had he actually believed. Instead of recounting more details of life on Earth, he reached into his pack and removed the iPhone, still powered down after he turned it off the previous day. He handed it over to Asari, who looked at it with interest and confusion, finally giving him a questioning glance.
“This is called a telephone,” Randy explained. “Where I come from I can use this to call another person with such a phone almost anywhere in the world.’
A look of doubt crossed Asari’s face, and Randy continued before he could interrupt.
‘Sadly, I cannot demonstrate that capability to you here, but this phone has other capabilities I think will amaze you. Here, let me show you.”
Asari handed the phone back, and Randy scooted over close to him so he could watch as he turned it on. A small murmur of surprised escaped the boy’s lips as the previously dark screen came to life, caused Randy to smile to himself. Selecting the camera, he scooted even closer to Asari, held the phone at arm’s length, and took their picture. It wouldn’t be a good photo, but he was uncertain what reaction he might find showing the boy a photo of just himself, having read of various religious superstitions adventurers had encountered on Earth. With the two of them together, any bad response should be muted. Selecting the photo he had just taken, Randy handed the phone back to Asari so he could see the result.
The result was all that Randy could have hoped for, and after explaining the concept, he was encouraged to take additional photos of the boy, who looked at each in wonderment. After he was sure the boy understood what the pictures represented, he showed the boy some of the pictures he had stored on the camera. There were more than a hundred to chose from, and he showed him his home, several friends, and one of his girl friend in a bikini which made the boy a bit uncomfortable, yet curious. Randy quickly moved on pushing aside the boy’s questions, surprised at the feelings the picture suddenly caused to surface. After going through several dozen photos and explaining what and where they had been taken, Randy moved on to his stored video. He had a couple of movies, and while the boy wasn’t able to follow the dialogue, he saw the cars and planes, as well as a shot from the air of San Francisco and the Golden Gate bridge. It was obvious he had never seen anything like it before.
“This is my home,” Randy said finally as he turned the video off. I know you would like to look more, but video uses a lot of power, not the kind you know, but electrical power. There is a storage cell inside, but it only stores so much, and then the phone won’t operate. I have no way to recharge it here.
Asari looked so crestfallen, that Randy finally dug out the earphones, and selecting some mellow instrumental music, showed the boy how to put the buds in his ears so he could listen. Playing music wouldn’t use much power, and it was obviously having the desired effect.
When the time came to turn in, Asari reluctantly handed the device over, and Randy put it away. Laying across the fire from the boy, Randy waited until the fire died to embers and the boy had drifted off, to pull the two flowers and blades of grass from his pocket. Slowly and carefully he slipped the flowers into his mouth, chewed and swallowed them. Afterwards he sucked on the blade of grass while waiting to sleep. The memories in his mind said these would rapidly neutralize the effects of the bark Asari had given him, and he seemed to know how to prevent further doses from having any effect. Given he didn’t have any skill with the power it didn’t really matter, but he was curious if this knowledge was valid. It seemed too specific to be otherwise, still he needed to test it to be sure. With no immediate negative reaction to the food, he was far more comfortable with his chances of survival than he had been when he woke up.
Chapter 4
Cheurt was overjoyed to be home. He breathed deeply of the aromatic forest air here in the great trees he loved so well, as his mind settled from the disorienting journey through the Nexus between worlds. Even the air here was purer he thought, charged with the sense of power that had been missing so long. His arrival released him from the land where his power ranked at a level the lowest novice would be shamed to reveal. Only the storage crystals, which had to be used judiciously, made the trips bearable, or even possible.
Ryltas, his second in command had jumped to his feet when he sensed Cheurt’s return, and was already making his way toward him, eager to learn how things had gone. Well he should, as his own future depended on what Cheurt had accomplished this time. The others stood back, knowing the first greeting should belong to the old friends.
“Ryltas,�
�� Cheurt said warmly, putting his free hand around the shoulder of his brother wizard.
“Welcome back sire,” Ryltas responded. Only he was free to greet Cheurt so informally, and then only because of his own honorable ranking among the wizards, and the fact that he and Cheurt had long been close friends and allies. They had studied and schemed together at the academy and this latest endeavor was the result of years of planning on both their parts. Together they had found the clues that had led to their finding the lost Nexus that most believed was only a fable. Should anything happen to Cheurt, Ryltas would be his natural successor. The others, of course, only referred to their leader as ‘master’ as Cheurt demanded, as well they should. Just because they had been allowed to be part of such a great opportunity, they were far below the two leaders in standing, and woefully weaker in the power, although some would say they were among the most accomplished wizards in all of Ale’ald.
“Pardon me for saying so, but you look weary sire; far more so than on any previous return. Did things go poorly?”
Cheurt sighed and slipped the two dull crystal containers off his shoulder and handed them over to his friend. They were empty and would need to be recharged again. The third remained fully charged and carefully hidden back on Earth, one of several that now waited there. The transfer severely limited what could be transported between worlds, and slowly he had worked to build up a reserve of the power storing crystals on the other world. The two he allowed himself to use had been drained sometime ago, leaving him nearly as helpless as the inhabitants of that world. It was the absence of the power and the resulting feeling of weakness that took its toll more than anything else. Briefly he reached out and touched the invisible, but always present fields of the power, and sighed again with satisfaction. He was whole again. He could level this forest if he wished.
Ignoring the question for the moment Cheurt asked, “Did you notice anything unusual about my arrival?”
Surprised, his friend shook his head. “Nothing. As usual, you simply appeared in the usual spot. There was no sound, no indication of the transition other than your sudden presence. Perhaps I sensed the slightest puff of wind. Why?” he asked, unable to refrain from voicing the obvious question.
Cheurt, his arm still around the shoulder of his friend, led him away from his arrival point. As they walked away he felt his sense of the Nexus fade rapidly. It only took ten feet or so, and his awareness dropped by an order of magnitude. While normally the presence and location of the transition point was only a background awareness once he approached close enough, after a transition its nearness was somehow uncomfortable. Perhaps this was a warning that another transition should not be attempted for some time. He had learned that at least a week was needed after a round trip before the feeling faded away and indicated it had become safe again.
“Something was different this time. I don’t know why. The transition was more draining, and it felt vaguely unstable. I cannot explain beyond that. It also seemed to take longer, although I realize that sounds contradictory since it also seems to be instantaneous as I’ve explained before. Even now, there is a slight tickle or unease in the back of my mind I’ve not sensed before.”
‘Is something happening to the nexus,” Ryltas asked with alarm. “Without it, all our plans would be thwarted, unless we could find the location of the other node. Do you think it is failing?”
“I do not think so, but then we really don’t understand how it works or even what powers it. The sense I received was that something about this transition was unbalanced, for lack of a better word, not that the Nexus itself was at risk. Feelings only, my old friend. We will know soon enough. The next time the two of us will go. Then you will see how desolate and frustrating Earth really is. And forget about the other node. The old documents said it was necessary for the ancients to create a matched pair on opposite sides of the world. We have no idea what lies on the far side of this world, if anything, nor do we have the means to try and get there. There are only legends that indicate our kind have ventured beyond the mainland more than the outer island, and those are only two days sailing away. Besides, the two nodes are linked, so it is reasonable to assume if one is affected, so must the other.”
Nodding, Ryltas said. “I hope your feeling is correct. I know how you feel about Earth, but I’m an old fool. I look forward with great eagerness to finally making the journey and doing my part.”
“That’s because you haven’t been there yet. You will tire of it soon enough, and it falls on you to be there far longer than the sum of all my trips. I hope your enthusiasm can hold up.”
Cheurt dropped his tired hand from the other’s shoulder. “Come,” he said. “Enough of this. You have my clothes somewhere. I’ve worn these rags long enough. I must change to feel whole again.”
“Of course,” Ryltas answered immediately, and turned to signal Kalnd, who like the lowest member of the group he was, rapidly scurried off to get the master’s garments.
By now the others had started to make their way toward them to greet their leader. Cheurt watched them come with a feeling of satisfaction. His chosen team. They had performed well, and each had served him for a long time. They had prospered by doing so, but simple advancement had not been the motivator for these men.
“Toran,” he said warmly, taking the man’s offered hand between his own. Toran was a thinker and planner. His ideas were original and powerful, and he had frequently come up with the means of advancing their goals far faster than anyone would have thought possible. Cheurt valued the man highly, and treated him accordingly. He was also a powerful war wizard, falling only behind Cheurt in sheer power, but lacked some of the mental capabilities of Ryltas making him third overall in their small group.
“Master,” Toran responded, his grey eyes clear and focused. He also saw the weariness of his leader, and smiled to show his pleasure with his safe return. Quickly he moved aside to allow the others their chance to greet Cheurt. He didn’t want to tire him any more than necessary, and now that he was back there would be ample opportunity to talk later.
Cerkim and Ranul came next, their dress and wiry frames and darker skinned faces making them appear almost like brothers where in fact they had been born at opposite ends of Ale’ald, and had come into the academy as the result of far different ambitions. Each had a bow strung over his shoulder, a very unusual sight for a wizard who had little need of normal weapons for defense. It had been Cheurt’s insistence that they needed a couple of archers within their inner circle. Normal men, non-wizards would have been unthinkable. There was no way he would allow such outsiders knowledge of their activities, which would have been necessary if they were to travel with them. These two had seen his reasoning and understood that there were creatures where they traveled that even those strong in the power needed to fear.
Creating expert archers from wizards came at a cost, however. It took many years to train an expert archer, just as it took many years to create a truly competent wizard. Cheurt could not afford the time. Fortunately, there had been another way. A wizard of his level knew of ways to pair one of the wizards to one of the kingdom’s expert archers. The skills and training, and even some of the muscle memory of the archer could be extracted and imprinted onto the wizard, giving him the necessary skills in less than a day. Of course, the archer used as the source of this knowledge would be sacrificed by the process, but Cheurt felt this a trivial concern. The kingdom had many archers, and he needed properly trained wizards.
They had used a similar process to train the wizards in the creation of their very special arrows. It had taken a long search to find a metal smith with the proper skills, but once he demonstrated how to make the type of projectile Cheurt was seeking, it would have been necessary to silence the man anyway. He didn’t want word of what he was doing to leak out as gossip, so now those skills were possessed by the two men now standing in front of him, their arrows gleaming in their quivers with the reddish coloring resulting from their special proce
ssing.
“Cerkim, Ranul,” he said, greeting the two with the same warmth he had used to greet Toran.
They smiled, and nodded their heads in submission, then said in unison, “Welcome back master.”
Phit was next. He was a superb wizard, ranking just behind Toran in overall capability, and had the potential to become far greater. It was unfortunate he was a mole. The masters at the Academy didn’t always agree with Cheurt and his planning, and had schemed to plant someone among his inner circle to keep them aware of his actions. It had suited Cheurt to allow this to happen, at least for the time being. Having someone he knew was the source of information back to the Academy was far better than wondering what actions they might be taking to obtain the information. So far the Academy had supported his actions and overall plan, at least as far as they understood it. Phit’s survival depended entirely on the actions of his handlers. If a time came there was disagreement, then Phit was history. If things continued as they had, then Phit would continue as a member, never knowing his secret had been exposed before he ever came on board.
Kalnd came hurrying up moments later with Cheurt’s clothes. Kalnd was by far the weakest of the group, but his contribution was political in nature. His family was very powerful in the kingdom, and in addition to political influence could be counted on for a continuing source of revenue. Cheurt was not blind to the need for sufficient funds. So while Kalnd was sometimes looked down upon by the others, Cheurt made sure he felt his contributions were well received.
“Thank you,” Cheurt said sincerely.
Quickly he stripped off the hated Earth clothing and slipped into the much looser fitting shirt and trousers common among the wizards. The cloth was made from the fibers painstakingly extracted from the vines of the very rare yuel tree. The result was a cloth that made the finest earthen silk seem coarse by comparison. More importantly were the diamond threads that were integral to the garment. Very few wizards had mastered the ability to use the power to extrude pure diamond into the fine, flexible, and nearly unbreakable thread. Woven into the yeul material, it gave the cloth a distinct appearance but also served as ready channels for directing the flow of the power. A wizard in such clothing was able to create personal shields and wards of immense strength. Each of his team had been the recipient of such a set of clothing from Cheurt, and each considered himself honored by the gift. It only made sense to have his team as protected as possible, he thought, and besides, the gift was just one more way to buy their loyalty.
