Across a Sea of Stars

by Michael E. Gonzales

  The man's great eyes stared into Cris's. "Tell me, as-trow-naut," Tattie's uncle asked quite slowly, "from where do you come?"

  "Earth, sir…a planet one hundred fifty thousand light years from here."

  "Space?" He turned to Tattie. "You know he has the black mark upon him?"

  "Yes."

  "Ahn vetrus lengua loquore?" (Does he speak the old tongue?)

  "Inmo, Teaoh." (No, uncle.)

  "Anak hik del ektatus?" (Are you attracted to this man?)

  Tattie lowered her head and looked up at him. "Egho swoom. Eatovidly a es maho entra." (Yes, I am. And I have seen his maho within.) She said this smiling, then coyly shot Cris a glance.

  Tattie's uncle turned with a disapproving eye toward Cris.

  "Teaoh," Tattie said quickly, "kum prophektus som coge etate ownes." (I have journeyed through his thoughts.)

  "Atkay?" (And?) her uncle asked.

  "Illa seranaught—mehi." (It is he who brings light—to me.)

  The man turned to face Cris, paused a moment, then stood before him. "I am Tarnus." His voice was deep as the sea and filled the dark room like an ocean wave, "Farmer of the great vale of Faretress, and former Captain to the King of the Geldneth." When the great man sat, the house seemed to shake.

  "I am pleased to meet you, Captain Tarnus," Cris extended his hand.

  Tarnus looked at Cris's hand, confused. "What is it you want?"

  "Back home, we shake hands as a salutation," Cris explained.

  Tarnus took Cris's right hand with his left.

  "No, sir, use your other hand," Cris explained, and they shook.

  "Cris Salazar," Tarnus corrected his posture upon his seat. "Why are you with my orbrena?"

  "Orbrena?" Cris looked at Tattie. "I thought your name was—"

  "He means the daughter of his brother."

  "Oh, niece. I'm sorry Captain, I don't comprehend every word spoken."

  "I am no longer a Captain of men. I am simply Tarnus."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Tarnus!"

  "Of course."

  "Well, Cris Salazar?" Tarnus returned to his question.

  "Just Cris will do—Tarnus."

  "Cris," Tarnus became quite serious, "I will have an answer to my question."

  "Oh—yes. Well—Tarnus—she offered to guide me to Emer Alda."

  "To what end?"

  "The wizard told me to go there, that the great mind can tell me how to get home."

  "Wizard?"

  "Teaoh, he means the Thaumatergon."

  "That old gimba? Cris of Earth, he has sent you to your death, and I shall not see my orbrena die with you, striving to reach those walls."

  "Teaoh," Tattie jumped up, "I am a full grown lawberow! You have no right to order me."

  Tarnus rose to his full height, his booming voice stern. "I have the right to speak for your father, my brother, in his absence. This gimba has no concept of what awaits him. Between Caval Du Mal and Nazer itself, he will be lucky to survive the vale. Then what will become of you and your attract—" he stopped abruptly and glanced at Cris. "Then what becomes of you? You know as well as I, he will soon be in the belly of a morka or a slidrath, if not in whatever slow death that Caval Du Mal will visit upon him! And if you're caught with him—"

  "Tarnus," Cris rose to his feet, "I'm not familiar with the dangers of your world, this is true. But I'm no FNG. I am a combat veteran of two tours in a zone of open hostilities. I have fought men in the air and on the ground. I have fought my way through vile swamps and steaming jungles teeming with all manner of animals intent on devouring me, with my enemy all around me in the thousands, all focused on my capture or death. And I survived. I will survive this, as well."

  Tarnus looked down at Cris. "You see yourself as a soldier skilled in battle?"

  "I do."

  With an arm as big as a tree trunk, he pointed at Tattie, and through gritted teeth exclaimed, "She is not!"

  Tattie leapt up again. "Teaoh, I am a skilled huntress—my bow is steady, my rama accurate. I have speed and stealth and I am familiar with the dangers of our world."

  Tarnus sat. So did Tattie.

  ○O○

  Cris also resumed his seat and listened intently as Tarnus leaned in toward Tattie, and said, "You are—Hormenees alle gotor unikia?"

  "Vedi noblis im spear atomb, avnukulose," Tattie responded sternly.

  "Im umbreia? Elluk tae?"

  Cris leapt again to his feet. "Hold it," he shouted. Then in a calmer voice said, "Just hold it. Where I come from, it's very rude to hold a private conversation in front of someone. How about I just step outside and you two can have a chat?"

  Tarnus rose slowly. "You are correct, Cris of Earth. Our manners are lacking, and we are ashamed. You are a guest in my home. I must also acknowledge the fact that you are a brave man to have gotten so far."

  "Thanks," Cris said, squinting up at the giant.

  "Tattie tells me she has seen into you. And that you are a good man, as well."

  Cris remained silent and stoic.

  "Hold your arms out," Tarnus demanded. Cris hesitantly complied. Then suddenly, Tarnus grabbed his crotch. Cris gasped and brought his arms down to defend himself, but Tarnus brought up his other arm and blocked Cris. Then he released him. Cris was not injured—not physically, anyway.

  "Hey, what the hell?"

  Tarnus grabbed Cris's right arm and held out his hand, palm up. He extended his other hand toward Tattie, who placed her knife in his massive hand. Tarnus fixed his gaze upon Cris's eyes. Cris understood this game, so he remained still and locked onto Tarnus's stare. The big man took the knife and sliced Cris's thumb open. Cris did not flinch. Tarnus handed the knife back to his niece, then produced a piece of rough paper and held it under Cris's bleeding thumb to catch several drops of his blood. He then turned away. As Tarnus examined the blood near the fire, Tattie handed Cris a cloth with which to wrap his thumb.

  Tarnus turned back to Cris. "Spit, here on this paper."

  "What?"

  "Spit, here."

  Cris spat and watched as Tarnus turned quickly and tossed the paper into the flames in the huge fireplace. Cris watched as the paper started to burn, and when the flames reached Cris's bodily fluids, it began to pop, snap, and spark.

  Tarnus turned toward Cris again, a different expression on his face, almost a smile.

  "We are of the same species," he bellowed, "just a different race."

  "The fire told you that?"

  "And you are male."

  "I know how you figured that one out!"

  "Cris from Earth, are you capable enough to keep Tattie, here, safe and out of danger?"

  Cris looked over at Tattie and watched as the fire danced in her eyes. "I will protect her with my life."

  Tarnus leaned in closer toward Cris, their noses almost touching. "The question is, Cris, how will you do it? She will not make it easy for you to protect her. She is stubborn, as was her mother!"

  "Mother was not stubborn!"

  "Ha!" Tarnus threw his head back as he exaggerated a mock laugh. "I have only ever encountered one woman more stubborn, and she sits before me! Ha!" He turned to Cris. "Beware this one, Cris. Among her attributes is stealth, she will worm her way into you and you'll not be able to refuse her!" Then, he slapped Cris on the shoulder, almost knocking him to the floor.

  It seemed the ice was broken, Tarnus had accepted him.

  Tattie, angry with her uncle, rose and exited into another room of the house.

  "Tarnus, let me ask you about that last statement you made."

  "Yes?"

  "About her worming her way into me—"

  "What of it?"

  "Is it true, does she have some power to make me do what she wants?"

  "Do not the females of Earth hold the same power over their men?"

  "That's not what I meant."

  "What did you mean, boy? Speak plainly."

  "Well—when she laughs, or I see her smile, I get a w
arm, sometimes hot sensation that seems to follow my central nervous system down through my body to my feet. I can't explain it. I thought perhaps your people have some power—"

  "Cris—she looked into your inner being. Do you know what she saw there?"

  "Not entirely."

  "Well—she knows what she saw."

  With that, Tarnus rose from his seat. "Come, we will have food and drink and you must tell me of this Earth of yours."

  ○O○

  Tarnus did not use plates as such; rather, a wooden tray was set before him on which his food was piled. There was no cutlery either; they ate with their hands, which Tarnus and Tattie made a big deal of cleaning before they ate. Cris saw it as a ritual hand washing. Tarnus did have simple fired-clay cups and a pitcher. None of the items on the table was in any way adorned.

  Two hours later, the evening meal was just starting to draw gradually toward its end. Tarnus had eaten hearty of the many meats, vegetables, cheeses, and fruits he had set before them on the table. Cris had eaten rather a lot as well, at Tarnus's insistence.

  Another treat on the table was the enormous clay pitcher of what could only be described as a thick, dark, beer. Cris found it irresistible.

  Tarnus leaned across the table on his elbows, his chin in his palms.

  "Boys," said Tattie, "the hour grows late. The time has come for sleep."

  "You're right." Tarnus stood. "Curse me for a clumsy gimba!"

  "Tarnus," Cris checked to ensure Tattie was not listening, "What does it mean?"

  "What does what mean?" Tarnus sat back down.

  "Gimba. Tattie calls me that all the time. I understand it's not good to be one—but what does it mean?"

  "She called you that even after she looked inside you?"

  "Yeah."

  "Ha! Go to bed, Cris Salazar of Earth. Sleep in the knowledge that, in my home, you are safe. Know also that the warmth you feel has yet to be earned."

  "Earned? Whaz zat mean?"

  Tarnus aided Cris to his feet and shuffled him toward the back room.

  ○O○

  There was one small candle burning in this room. Cris saw a large bed, very similar to those of Earth. He was greatly fatigued, not having had sleep for over two days, perhaps longer. He was made drowsy by the drink, as well. It became imperative for him to get into the bed. He sat on its edge and removed his boots—"Nothing Nazer about these," he said aloud to himself. "If I'm caught, my feet will go to jail." He chuckled to himself. He thought to disrobe. He stood, but could not get the zipper to come down on his jacket. He gave up the contest, and climbed under the many fleece-covered hides piled on the bed.

  He was starting to drift away when the lone candle went out and he heard Tattie's voice. "Sleep well, Cris," she spoke in a low whisper. She lay next to him in the bed. Cris was suddenly awake and nearly sober. He swallowed hard. He was lying on his left side, so he reached a foot backward and felt the back of her calf. She must be lying on her right side. They were facing away from one another. Her leg was bare.

  "Is that you, Cris?"

  "Ah—sorry."

  "Sleep now."

  "Hey, I thought you said I'd never see you—what was it…oh, yeah—be klided again."

  "You're blind in the dark, Cris. Now, sleep."

  Very soon, he heard her breathing become deep and rhythmic.

  Eventually, Cris, too, fell asleep. His mind plunged into a dark hole of dreams. He was pulling Danny Rastemberger out of their downed aircraft again, flames all about him, the heat scorching, the smell of burning flesh filling his nostrils.

  When he was clear, he looked down to find the man he had been pulling was Vemde.

  When he looked up, he was back in the jungles of Oceania; he insulted a tree that slapped him. As he jerked his head back around, he found himself back in his aircraft—it was burning.

  He dropped his ordinance from the aircraft and a small hamlet below was destroyed. Tarnus ran after him through the skies, shouting and throwing spears at him and calling him a gimba.

  Below him, a school was burning—

  Cris suddenly awoke screaming "No!" His eyes were open wide, his mouth agape, his breathing fast, and perspiration pouring off his face.

  Tattie instantly sat up. She was, of course, able to see him quite well. "Cris, wake up!" She grabbed him and held him. He was stunned, confused, and a little nauseous.

  "I'm sorry," he panted.

  "It's all right. I understand."

  "What?" Cris asked angrily. "What do you think you understand?"

  "Oceania, Cris. I understand Oceania, and I'm sorry for your pain. Now, go back to sleep."

  "How do you know anything about—"

  "Shhh—sleep. Rest. You will need it."

  ○O○

  The next morning, Cris awakened to the sound of Tattie humming an odd tune and the smell of something cooking. Both were coming from the house's main room.

  He sat up, rubbed his face, and tried to push his hair into place with the palms of his hands; he swung his legs around out of bed and attempted to stand. As he put weight on his legs, a flaming pain shot up his left leg, and he fell heavily to the floor.

  "Crap!" he shouted as he hit the floor. He looked at his left calf. It was swollen twice its normal size, and blood was dripping from his bandage. The bed where his leg had lain was saturated.

  At the sound of his heavy fall, Tattie came in, saw his head beyond the bed, and knew he was sitting on the floor. "Still your head swims from our strong drink, does it, gimba?"

  "Tattie—I think I'm in trouble, here."

  The smile vanished from her face and she rushed around the end of the bed. Seeing all the blood on the bed and his bloody bandage, she instantly leapt over Cris to land softly on his left to examine his wound.

  "Where did you get this?" She was serious, urgency was in her voice.

  "That thing the other night—"

  "Tooth or claw?"

  "I don't know, what's the diff—"

  "Very much difference! Tooth or claw?"

  "Ah—it had to be the claw."

  "Teaoh!" she hollered.

  Tarnus burst into the room at the sound of her panicked voice. He looked down and asked, "Which beast?"

  "The morka," Tattie said. "Claw!"

  Tarnus pulled the covers from the bed and rushed from the room with them.

  Tattie removed the bloody, dripping bandage, and as she pulled it from the wound, a stench unlike any Cris had ever encountered: ripe and pungent, assaulted his olfactory senses. Even Tattie turned away. The wound looked horrible; the entire calf was a deep purplish color, like an eggplant. The gash was now close to seventeen centimeters long and gaping open five centimeters at the center. Red, bleeding meat was exposed inside.

  "Cris, yesterday, did you not drink the elixir?"

  "Elixir?"

  "Yes, from the leather bladder, the elixir of Geldneth Nordthok."

  "Yeah, I had some."

  "Some? How much?"

  "Oh, Tattie, I can't remember—"

  "Chyfregolla! You must recall, it is important!"

  "Okay, okay—ah—two swallows, however much that might be."

  "Why did you not tell me you were hurt?"

  "Why, are you a medic?"

  "I have skills that have kept me alive in those woods all my life. I know that a fresh morka claw wound should be cleaned and the poison drawn out with fire. This could have been prevented had you told me. Now, the treating will bring you pain and the healing will take longer."

  "As long as I don't lose the leg, I'm up for any treatment."

  "Lose the leg? If we are too late, you will lose your life."

  Outside Tarnus erected a sort of hammock and brought his fire from the hearth to a circle of stones outside with a shovel-like tool. He increased the size of the fire and laid a metal rod and a large knife blade in the flames. Then he went inside and retrieved Cris, picking him up as if he were as light as a puppy. Tarnus carried Cris to the hammo
ck and laid him on his stomach. He then turned to Tattie. "You know what I need, child. Go and beg the Avory to allow us but one.”

  Tarnus then circled back around to the front of the hammock and squatted to face Cris.

  "Listen to me, boy. The poison is greatly advanced in you. I will open your calf and remove the muscle—"

  "Wait just a minute, you might as well cut the leg off, I'll be useless!"

  "Nonsense. The muscle will grow back into place—"

  "Look, Tarnus, your muscles might grow back. My people don't grow new appendages or muscles!"

  "Cris, have you ever put your fortune, your life, in the hands of another man?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I have."

  "Then do so again, now."

  Tattie returned with a large pod from some plant in the forest. It was a little smaller than a football, green with fuzz all over it, and a hairy top. "Teaoh, it was very strange: I knelt before the old one by the stream to beg for the help of the Avory, but before I had spoken a word, this popped up out of the water near the bed of the Aveyokie."

  "You did not speak?"

  "No, Teaoh, not a word."

  He turned to Cris. "Do the Avory know you?"

  "We met, but I don't think they liked me."

  "Your thinking is askew." Then in a much more somber voice, Tarnus said, "Now, we begin."

  Tarnus took the pod and went back toward the fire.

  Tattie knelt before Cris now. She had a bucket of water and the leather bladder with the elixir in it.

  "Drink your fill now," she said, "and later, you must drink much more in the hope the elixir will grant you relief from the pain."

  Cris took a healthy swig.

  "No, Cris, you must drink it all."

  Cris began to drink deeply. He was amazed at how much the bladder held.

  "Here ya go—thanks. I guess I'll owe you—"

  Tarnus opened his swollen leg with the red-hot knife blade. Cris could feel Tarnus slice the skin open from the back of his knee to just above his ankle, and then pull the skin back and expose the muscle. He knew when Tarnus took the red-hot metal rod and laid it on the muscle just at the spot where he had been injured.

  Tattie handed the refilled bladder back to Cris, who took a very long draw. For a moment, the pain subsided, until Tarnus started to carefully remove the muscle. Cris shouted out a word unknown to the Geldneth and took a hard pull on the bladder. His mind was swimming in an ocean of pain until he seemed to drown in the elixir and, thankfully, lost consciousness.