As I watched her work, I wondered how big a part she was going to play in my adventure on Ibara. Would she be a friend? An enemy? Or would her role end as soon as I left this place?
“Hungry?” she asked, bringing me a brown mug of something.
“I don’t want to go back to sleep.”
“You won’t. This is broth. You need to get your strength back.”
I took the cup gratefully and sipped. It was warm, salty, and good. It tasted like chicken soup. I guess it doesn’t matter where or when you are, chicken soup is the universal tonic. As I sipped, Telleo went back to work at her table. She busied herself with whatever she was doing, but kept stealing curious looks at me. She had no idea who I was or where I came from. I, on the other hand, had no idea where I was or how I got there. Between the two of us, we were pretty clueless. I needed to learn about Ibara, but had to choose my questions carefully.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” I said.
“You’re welcome. It’s my job.”
“You’re a doctor?”
“I assist the doctors.”
“So this is a hospital?”
“No, it is a community hut used by the tribunal.”
Tribunal. I was beginning to learn. I still had no idea what kind of society this was. From what I’d seen of this small hut, it was a weird mix of the primitive and the modern. The thought hit me that this might actually be some kind of vacation resort.
You know, where people spend loads of bucks to stay in authentic huts and pretend like they’re roughing it.
“You were brought to the village by a group of fishermen who saw the attack,” she explained. “If they hadn’t arrived and sprayed the bees, there’s no telling how badly you would have been hurt.”
“So I guess I really was lucky,” I declared.
Telleo looked like she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if she should.
“What?” I asked.
She looked around, as if making sure we were alone, then quickly knelt down by me. When she spoke, the words came quickly, like she didn’t have enough time.
“Where did you come from?” she asked curiously. “I know you aren’t from here.”
She wasn’t being aggressive or anything. She seemed genuinely curious. Trouble was, I had no idea of how to answer. It was time to get vague.
“You’re right. I’m not from here.”
I figured that was about as generic and truthful an answer as I could risk. She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. She suddenly seemed much younger than I first thought. It was like talking to a naive little girl.
“But there was no boat,” she countered. “At least not where the fishermen found you. They searched the beach.”
“There are other ways to travel,” I said, again being vague.
She gave me a curious look. “I don’t understand. How else could you get here without a boat?”
I didn’t mention the flume. My answer was a noncommittal shrug.
“There is so much I don’t know,” she said, mostly to herself. She looked at me and her you should be left on the beach to die. I wouldn’t let them. We aren’t savages.”
“Nice to know. Thank you,” I said sincerely.
“Don’t thank me,” she said. “Tell me the truth. Are you a Flighter?”
Gulp. Flighter? I had no idea. Was it good or bad to be a Flighter? I decided to be vague again. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble. That’s the absolute truth.”
Telleo stared at me for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether she believed me. Finally she gave me a relieved smile. “I didn’t think so. You don’t seem at all like a Flighter. I’m glad.”
Phew. Me too. Note to self: Flighters = Bad.
She stood up, excited again. “So tell me where you’re from. I’ve never been much farther than the border of Rayne. There must be so much to see. I hear stories, but it’s not the same as seeing things for yourself.”
Rayne. What was that? I wished I could have just asked, but that would raise too many questions in return.
“I’d like to go outside,” I said, ducking the question.
Telleo bit her lip nervously. “That’s not wise.”
I forced myself to sit up, more slowly this time. “Why not? I’m feeling better. I think I can-“
The door burst open. Three men strode in, each wearing the same kind of clothes I had on. They stood together, glaring at me. Glaring was bad. They were all about my size, or bigger, which meant I wasn’t going to be the tall guy. Oh well. They all had long hair, nearly to their waists. They wore leather straps around their middles, like belts. Tucked into these were short, wooden clubs. Weapons. One on each hip. This was not a welcoming committee.
Telleo faced them boldly, her legs apart. “He shouldn’t be moved yet.” She tried to sound all bad, but she didn’t have it in her.
The guy in the center, the biggest of the three, stepped past her and looked down his nose at me like I was a disease. “You are under arrest,” he growled.
Oh. Great. I’d only been awake on Ibara for a few minutes and I was already in trouble.
I didn’t want to challenge his authority, so I didn’t stand up. “Why?” I asked innocently.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“And you won’t get the chance,” he spat back.
“You can’t arrest me for something I might do wrong,” I complained.
“He’s not a Flighter,” Telleo argued. “He doesn’t mean any harm.”
The big guy gave her a steely look. “And how would you know that?”
Telleo said sincerely, “Because he told me, and I believe him.” Yeah, go Telleo!
The guy smirked. I hate smirks. “And that’s why you care for the sick, and we handle security.”
Telleo wouldn’t back down. “He must stay until he gets his strength back.”
“Strength is the last thing we want him to have,” the big guy snarled.
He motioned to his two pals. They strode quickly toward me. Uh-oh. Before I had a chance to react, they each grabbed one of my arms and yanked me to my feet. I didn’t fight. I couldn’t. My head was too busy spinning.
“Please!” Telleo begged. “He is ill.”
“Your duty is complete, Telleo,” the big guy barked. “Return to the medical section and forget you ever saw this man.”
“Whoa, no!” I shouted. “Don’t forget me, Telleo. They can’t arrest me if I didn’t do anything. That’s not how you live here, right? You’re not savages, remember? You don’t let people die and you don’t hurt innocent people.”
It was getting scary. This suddenly had all the makings of a mob hit. No questions, no trial, no trail. The scabby guy gets taken away and is never seen again. I wanted to fight back, but didn’t have the strength. Heck, I could barely see straight.
“Don’t worry,” Telleo said as they pulled me toward the door. “The tribunal will understand. If you’ve done nothing wrong they will just send you away.”
I didn’t know what “away” meant. Heck, I didn’t even know what “here” meant. I didn’t know much of anything except I was being dragged away by three thugs who thought I was guilty until proven innocent. But of what?
She gave me a sad, helpless smile. I wondered if I would see her again.
“Thank you,” I said.
The big guy kicked the door open, and I was pulled out of the hut to get my first real view of Ibara-the world I was supposed to try and protect from Saint Dane. The world that had already branded me a criminal.
(CONTINUED)
IBARA
“Paradise.”
I’m not sure what other word could better describe Ibara. It was paradise. Of course it was a paradise where I was nearly stung to death by a swarm of killer bees and arrested for crimes I didn’t commit. Other than that, it was paradise.
I was taken from the hut where Telleo had been caring for me and pulled roughly across flat sand. I didn’t resist. There were three o
f them and one of me. Worse, I was operating at about 20 percent. I went along quietly while trying to take in my surroundings.
I wanted to learn as much about Ibara as I could. It wasn’t easy. The three guys who arrested me weren’t exactly acting like tour guides. I had to see what I could while being dragged through town.
Yes, town. Maybe it would be more accurate to call it a tropical village. There were no tall buildings, only wooden huts with grass roofs, like the one I’d been recovering in. There were hundreds of them in all sizes, lined up in orderly rows that created streets of sand. The huts were set back from these sandy pathways with lots of space yards, the huts were surrounded by green leafy plants that were dotted with an amazing array of colorful flowers-bright reds, deep blues, brilliant oranges, and many more, all gleaming in the tropical sun. It looked as if each hut were resting in its own colorful nest. It smelled like a flower shop, but not in an overpowering, sweet way. The air just smelled fresh.
There were no vehicles. Everyone was on foot. Some people hung out in front of the huts, reading. Others carried baskets of food or large containers filled with I-don’t-know-what. I saw people working to repair huts and weaving fresh grass into the roofs. Others were building new huts. Everyone wore variations of the simple clothing I had found at the flume. Many of the men didn’t wear shirts or shoes. Some women wore short dresses. All the clothing was colorful and light. There were lots of kids, too, running around acting like, well, like kids.
The village was built on the shore of a calm, green ocean. A wide beach of powder-white sand separated the huts from the water. I only got a quick glance but saw several boats of all sizes floating just offshore. Some looked like small fishing boats, others were under sail. There were people fishing on shore, too, using long poles. The circular beach curved around, forming a huge bay, the entrance to which looked about a few hundred yards wide. The water inside was as calm as a lake. Beyond the entrance to the bay were the white lines of waves. That meant open sea. Huts were built all along the curve of the beach. It wasn’t crowded, though. There was plenty of greenery, with trees and bushes and flowers. Tall palm trees provided much-needed shade from the killer-hot sun.
The village was built in what seemed like a pretty sweet spot. On one side was the vast, protected bay. On the other, looming high over the village, was a majestic green mountain that rose to a sharp peak. High above on the mountain’s face I saw multiple waterfalls cutting the lush surface. At its base were more huts built onto its gently rising slope. Sounding like paradise yet?
It wasn’t a small village. It was more like a tropical city that was completely protected by water on one side and a spectacular mountain on the other. It seemed like a perfect fishing village. Still, there were enough odd touches that made it seem a little off. I couldn’t get a feel for how advanced this civilization was. Were these simple fishermen who spent their lives picking fruit and catching what they needed from the sea? Or was there more? There had to be, based on the technology I was seeing. Besides the telephone that Telleo used and the lights in the hut, there were lights in the trees of the village. That meant they had power. I also saw that some people were tending the flowers around their huts by spraying water from hoses. That meant they had plumbing. I already told you that I saw people reading books, which meant they had the ability to print.
There were other signs that didn’t jump out at first, but the more I thought about them, the less sense they made. The people weren’t of any particular race. I saw every skin and hair color you could imagine. They had a wide mix of facial features too. This definitely wasn’t a single race of people. I’m no anthropologist, but you’d think if this were a secluded village built by a single tribe, everybody would have the same general look. They didn’t. These people definitely came from different parts of Ibara. I actually started to think that maybe the idea of this being a resort might not be so far-fetched. It fit all the criteria: beautiful setting, awesome beach, a mix of different people, boats, fishing, killer weather, and all the comforts of home. The only thing missing was a boat pulling some water skiers and some guy playing a steel drum. There was only one problem with this theory.
At resorts people didn’t get abducted and falsely arrested. That would seriously ruin a vacation.
Most of what I described here I saw in the few minutes I was being dragged through the village. I tried to take it all in, while the people we passed were looking back at me with just as much interest. And why not? It must have been a sight to see three men dragging a dazed, scab-encrusted guy through the streets. A few bystanders applauded and yelled encouragement to my abductors.
“Nice work!” “Thank you!” “Wonderful!”
What was up with that? What had I done? Was it a crime to get munched by a swarm of bees?
“Where are we going?” I asked as we moved quickly through the sandy streets.
“You’ll be brought before the tribunal,” the big guy answered gruffly. “They’ll decide what to do with you.”
Tribunal. That sounded official. I figured I had better start forming a plausible story as to who I was and why I was there. It seemed like the best thing that could happen to me was to be sent away. At least that’s what Telleo said. I didn’t want to think about what the worst thing might be.
“Help! Thief!” came a woman’s cry.
Instantly two young guys ran out from a cross street in front of us. They each carried cloth sacks and were running away like, well, like thieves. They looked to be a little younger than I was. One had long dark curly hair and dark skin, the other’s hair was long and blond. Neither wore shirts or sandals. Both were laughing as if they had just gotten away with the crime of the century. They turned in our direction, saw us, stopped short… and stopped laughing.
“Uh-oh,” the blond guy gasped.
They took off running in the other direction. My captors stood frozen, not sure what to do.
“Maybe you should go after some real criminals/’ I suggested.
“Go!” The big guy barked at the others. “I can handle him.”
The other two bolted after the thieves. It was now one-on-one. Me against the big guy. I’m embarrassed to say that he was right. He was definitely able to handle me. He slipped a thin cord around my wrist and pulled it tight. He grabbed my other arm, pulled it behind my back and looped the other end of the cord around it, handcuffing me. He knew what he was doing. He pushed me forward and I stumbled on. We passed the street that the two thieves had run down in time to see the two other security guys tackle the thief with the dark hair. He was done. His blond friend got away though. Seeing this scene made me wonder if this idyllic tropical town was not so idyllic after all. It seemed to have a real crime problem.
“What exactly did I do wrong?” I asked the big guy.
“You’re an outsider,” he snapped, all business. “Outsiders are taken before the tribunal.”
Not good. There was no way I could convince anybody I wasn’t an outsider, so if being an outsider was bad, I was in trouble. At least that meant I didn’t have to pretend I knew anything about their town.
“What exactly is the tribunal?” I asked.
“It is the government of Rayne,” he answered.
“So this town is called Rayne?”
The guy didn’t answer.
“What do you have against outsiders?” I asked. Again, no answer.
“What happens if the tribunal thinks I’m guilty of being an outsider? What’s the worst that can happen?” “You’ll be executed,” the guy said flatly.
Oh. This definitely wasn’t a vacation resort. It was time to start worrying.
We didn’t say another word for the rest of our walk (drag) through the village. The farther away we got from shore, the more dense the jungle became. The trees were thicker, creating a protective overhead canopy. We passed open areas of cleared jungle where kids played, large huts that seemed to be community gathering places, and even a section of shops that sold clothing, tools
, and food. One large hut looked like a school, with a group of kids sitting in rows, attentively listening to a lesson being given by an older woman. We passed a large, open-air canopy structure where a performance was taking place. About a hundred people sat on the sand listening to a group of musicians play instruments made out of natural materials like bamboo and wood. They sounded pretty good, too. There was a lot of percussion, with a driving rhythm that had many people up and dancing. I wouldn’t have minded stopping to listen for a while. It would have been more fun than being dragged off to a possible execution.
The terrain grew steeper, and we soon had to climb up rocky steps. A few minutes later we came upon a sheer rock wall that looked like a dead end. As we walked closer, high above us on the sheer face of the mountain I saw a large opening cut into the rock. That told me we hadn’t hit a dead end after all. We were going inside the mountain. Sure enough, the path led to a cave opening that looked big enough to drive a car through. It wasn’t scary or anything, unless you considered there were people inside who would decide on whether or not I should be executed. It was a busy place, with people strolling in and out. As we got closer, I saw that it was well lit inside, with tubes of bright light running along the walls. The big guy led me inside and along a long corridor of rock that looked the same as the black rock cave where the flume was. There were open doorways on either side that led into large rooms where people were busily doing things like sewing clothes, preparing food, and doing repair work on small machines. The mountain was honeycombed with rooms and tunnels. There was no way these tunnels could be natural; it was way too complicated. That meant the people of this village cut through rock. Even more impressive was the fact that there was fresh air, even deep inside the mountain. They had ventilation. This living mountain once again pointed to the fact that this was an advanced society. It was a modern, primitive village. Ibara was an enigma.
The Pilgrims of Rayne tpa-8 Page 10
