Gradient

by Anders Cahill

  “And if they will not turn around?”

  “We will jump that gap when we get to it. If you need us, if there is any trouble, we will send help right away.”

  “Thank you, pausha. Thank you all. Wish us luck.”

  * * *

  “Wait,” Neka said in the tongue of the Sagain. We could hear voices shouting, and the sound of metal singing free of scabbards. The men had drawn their swords.

  “Reach,” I said. “Send all three drones. Right away.”

  “What if they are seen?” Xander.

  “That line has already been crossed, Xander. We need eyes on this.”

  “I will send them, pausha,” Reacher said, “and I will keep them at the highest altitude possible, to minimize the chances of being noticed by human eyes.”

  “Good. Neka and Cordar are taking a big risk here. We need a backup plan if this meeting goes wrong.”

  “We are not your enemies,” Neka was saying. “My name is Ne-en-Ka, and this is my companion, Co-de-Ra.”

  One of the men replied.

  “What did he just say, Reacher? Why aren’t you translating?”

  “Give me moment, pausha. His language is similar, but not the same. I do not think they are Sagain.”

  “What? How long until the drones are in viewing range?”

  “They are flying over now. Here.”

  A monitor lowered to my side, and it gave me a satellite view of the campsite. I could see the four strangers, small, dark dots, standing in a ragged half circle by the fire pit. Two more dots stood opposite the four. Neka and Cordar.

  “Can you zoom in?”

  “Of course. I am triangulating the feeds from each of the drones. I will have a three-dimensional rendering in another moment.”

  The image on the monitor stayed the same. One of the solitary dots stepped closer to the four men. My throat tightened up.

  “I have the feed here, pausha,” Reacher said. The holo lit up. We could see Neka, standing a few steps ahead of Cordar, her lips moving, a look of urgency on her face.

  A second after her lips stopped moving, her voice came through. “Please, put away your swords. There is no need for suspicion.”

  Before I could ask, Reacher said, “I am syncing up the audio. Now pausha, please breathe. Your heart rate is climbing. It is very distracting.”

  I took in a deep breath in through my nose and exhaled out, trying to calm my nerves. “Something’s not right,” I said.

  I gestured at the holo with my right hand. The view revolved. Now, we were looking over Neka’s shoulder at the four men. They stood, swords still drawn. A man who might have been their leader said something in response to Neka.

  “I have a functional translation schema,” Reacher said. “It is going to be rough, but I will turn it on now.”

  “Do it.”

  A simulation of the man’s voice came through. “You are no Sagain,” he was saying, “but you try speak them.” The program Reacher had improvised gave the man’s voice an ominous, distorted tone. It was like listening to the wind, and suddenly realizing it was saying something you could understand. “The Sagain killed us people. If you are friend, you are not us friends.”

  I zoomed out just enough to let us see everyone around the campfire. Cordar stepped forward, standing next to Neka. “We are explorers. Like you. We came from across the ocean,” he said. “The Sagain welcomed us. We learned to speak like them, so we could communicate.”

  “A ocean? Where are the boat?”

  “It was destroyed. We were near the shore when the earth began to shake. The water swelled and roared, swallowing us up, crashing our boat against the rocks. Our companions were killed. When I woke up, I was on the shore. Ne-en-Ka was beside me, looking down at me. She saved my life.”

  “You lucky, then,” one of the other men said. His translated voice had the same distorted, crackling tone. “I always have dreamed of being soothed by woman such as.”

  He stepped forward, leering at Neka, but the leader lifted up his hand, and without looking at the man, stopped him in his tracks.

  “Yes. Earth was angry day,” the leader said. “Our people never felt like that. Words fly even angrier here, far south. I came see it with my own eye.”

  “Have you been this far south before?” Neka asked.

  “Many many. But now, I do not know. There are an island.” He pointed east, towards us. “I sad you have no more boat. We have to build a one.”

  “Build a boat? So you can go to the island?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why?”

  Reacher broke in and said, “I am getting the hang of the pattern. Listen now.”

  “This morning,” the man was saying. His voice was clearer. More human. And the words were less stilted. “We see something in the sky. Something I would not believe if I had not seen with my own eyes.”

  “What did you see?”

  “You do not know? I thought, maybe, you followed it here. You came so soon after.” He tilted his head up a little, and to the left, casting a shrewd look at Neka.

  “No. We saw the light of your fire last night. We decided to wait until the morning to approach. We did not want to startle you.”

  “Ah. So you do not know about the floating stone we saw in the sky?”

  “A floating stone?”

  “It passed over us this morning.” He pointed up. “It looked at us. I am certain. Then it flew that way, to the island, gone from sight.” He traced a line through the air with his hand. “My men,” he said, a huge smile on his face, “think it be a demon escaped from earth. In her anger, the earth not notice the demon sneak away and fly up to the sky.”

  Neka smiled back. “A demon?” she said. “I know little of demons, but if this is one, it sounds very strange.”

  “No demons? But you know of boats?”

  Neka looked at Cordar. He nodded to her.

  She looked back at the men. “Yes,” she said.

  “Good,” the man said, “Maybe no demon. Maybe better thing instead.” He turned and looked over his shoulder at his men. They stepped forward, swords drawn, and surrounded Neka and Cordar.

  20 Contact

  When the bandits had moved in, I was ready to send in the drones and wipe them out. But Neka had stopped me. “Wait,” she said under her breath. “Trust me.” The bandits surrounding her did not hear it, but we all did.

  “Reach,” I said, “did I hear her right? She wants us to stay back?”

  “You heard correctly, pausha.”

  “Okay,” I said. “We wait. But Reacher?”

  “Yes, pausha,” the shipheart said, anticipating my next command, “I will keep eyes in the sky. If it gets worse, I will do what has to be done to keep them safe.”

  Now, it was evening, and I was sitting outside, soaking in the ocean air, wondering what to do next.

  Neka and Cordar spent the whole day with these men, helping them chop down trees and weave vines together, supervising them as they built a raft so they could come here. I was almost tempted to just get it over with, and send a hopper over to pick them all up. At least, that way, I could have the satisfaction of scaring the wits out of the strangers in the process.

  Their leader’s name was Ghisanyo En-Shul. He was, if his claims were true, one of the warrior-lords of the land of Kkad. A century ago, the Sagain had, apparently, gone to war with the Kkadie, fracturing the Kkadie’s hold on the lands north of the twin rivers. The Kkadie were not wiped out, but their king was beheaded and the people were splintered, factions spreading out across the land. Their power was diffuse, but Ghisanyo dreamed of the day when the Kkadie would come together again and regain their rightful strength.

  “One day,” he said, “I will march to festering Sur with a thousands at the back. The king of Sagain will knelt before me.”

  “How will you bring your people together again?” Cordar had asked.

  “We find some way. We must. Maybe there is way on island. I am no afraid of demo
n.”

  So Ghisanyo had come looking for some great magic. For the power that had angered the earth. What would he do when he found it, I wondered. And what would we do in return?

  * * *

  I touched the spot behind my ear and said, “How close are they, Reacher? I cannot see them from here.”

  “It looks like the current took them off the course I originally predicted. They will hit the beach in fifteen minutes, about a farrun from where you are now.”

  “Good. That’s good. That will give them time to get oriented. I will light my fire here as a beacon for them. They will approach under the cover of night, and when they see I am here alone, that will embolden them.”

  Even though a part of me knew everything was about to change, I took great pleasure in the solitude of the beach at twilight. The stars winked to life as the sky faded from deep blue into black. I dug a pit in the sand and made a ring around the edge with stones. The salt air was invigorating, filling my lungs as I worked. I gathered up driftwood and dry seaweed, piling it high.

  A few minutes later, the fire was blazing. I stood, turning my back on the flames, and looked out to the point on the horizon where the sky met the ocean. The line that separated them was almost invisible, but I could see the slow wheel of rising stars climbing up out of the blackness of the ocean.

  The sound of voices came to me. They had probably been watching me for a few minutes before they decided to approach in the open. I took the fact that they were not attempting stealth as a good sign. Whether they came with peaceful intentions, or they were overconfident, either option worked in my favor.

  Without looking at the fire, I circled around until I stood facing the approaching voices, the fire at my back. It was a small gamble, exposing myself like that, but I knew that I would look imposing, my full height silhouetted against the bonfire. Keeping my eyes away from the fire also protected my night vision. And if they had projectile weapons, it was unlikely that those weapons could penetrate my tunic. The fabric looked inconspicuous enough, but it was actually high-tensile blend designed for working in the mines on Verygone. It had been a parting gift from my father, one of the few items that I still carried with me from that past life.

  “Who’s out there?” I said in the universal tongue of the Fellowship.

  Silence. The voices had gone quiet.

  I waited.

  Ghisanyo emerged into the circle of light. He looked up at me and bared his teeth in a wide grin. Then he said something in his native tongue.

  An instant later, Reacher’s translation schema fed it back to the transponder in my ear. “Holy Sena,” he said, “I have never seen a man as big or as pale as you.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are you a man?” Reach had done some work on the translation program. There was virtually no lag, the fluency was significantly better, and the timbre of the translation was an almost perfect match for Ghisanyo’s actual voice.

  “Hmmm. Perhaps you cannot understand me,” he continued. “You spoke a moment ago, but it was not a language familiar to my ear.”

  “I understand you, little man,” I said, nodding. I knew he would not understand my words, but he would glean something from my tone.

  He tilted his head. “Yes,” he said. “You do understand me, don’t you, giant? But your words are like the sound of stones rubbing together. Maybe the demons of this place have stolen your tongue and replaced it with a worm from the underworld.”

  “I can understand what the giant is saying.” Neka stepped into the firelight.

  “You can?” Ghisanyo turned to her. “How?”

  “He is one of my people.”

  Ghisanyo glanced at me for a second then looked back to Neka and said, “He does not look like one of your people. Besides, I thought you and Co-de-Ra were the only ones to survive.”

  “I thought so too. It seems I was wrong.” She stepped past Ghisanyo and stood in front of me. Then she wrapped her arms around my waist, her head to my chest.

  I brought my arms to her back, and hung my head, looking down at her.

  “Hello, pausha,” she whispered in the universal tongue. “What are you doing?”

  “Following your lead,” I whispered back. “We thought it was better to meet them here. To take it slow.”

  I felt her nod against my chest.

  “What are you murmuring about?” Ghisanyo said, taking a step forward.

  I lifted my head to glare at him. He stopped in his tracks.

  Neka let me go. She turned towards Ghisanyo and spoke in the tongue of the Sagain, loud enough for her voice to carry out into the darkness. “Please. This is our friend and companion. His name is Oren. We thought he was dead, and he thought the same of us. He does not speak the languages of this land, but I can translate. He means you no harm. Come into the light.”

  Two more Kkadie stepped into view. Like Ghisanyo, they both wore thick beards and brown cloaks, still dusty from their desert travels. One man had an ugly scar running from his forehead, through the flesh around his eye, and down his cheek, a canyon of pitted skin dividing the beard on his left cheek. His blinded eye shone milky orange in the firelight.

  They never took their eyes off of me. If they were afraid, they did not show it.

  “Where is Cordar? And the other one?” I asked.

  “He wants to know where our friend is,” Neka said.

  Ghisanyo said, “Do you think we are so foolish? Look how big this one is.” He pointed at me. “My man Hesh is with Co-de-Ra until I say otherwise.”

  “I understand,” I said, “but if any harm comes to him, I will break every bone in your body, little man.” I made a gesture with my hands like snapping a branch.

  “He says…”

  “What he says is clear enough. Do not worry, tall one. Your friend will not be harmed unless you force our hand.”

  I nodded.

  “How long have you been on this island, tall one?”

  “His name is Oren.”

  “Does that translate to ‘too big’ in your tongue?”

  Neka narrowed her eyes at him, but I laughed.

  “Tell him my size is just right for dealing with glib tongued little men like him.”

  “He says you are too loose with your tongue for a man of your tiny stature.”

  Ghisanyo laughed back, then said, “Perhaps. But it has not gotten me killed. Not yet, anyway. And I am the one with a hostage, no?”

  Neka sighed and knelt down by the fire. She had a distant look on her face.

  “Do not be upset-”

  Ghisanyo did not finish his sentence. Using her cloak, Neka picked up one of the hot rocks at the edge of the fire pit and hurled it at him.

  He was quick, lifting his own cloak like a shield, but the rock was heavy, and it caught him on the forearm. He gave a quiet grunt of pain, but did not slow, his sword swinging free from its scabbard with his other hand. But Neka was already inside of his guard. She struck her elbow against the inside of his arm, a numbing blow that forced him to drop his sword. Then she brought her elbow across his jaw. He went down in a heap.

  The other two men dashed forward, but I stepped in front of them. I caught the blade of the closer sword with my hand, ripping it from the Kkadie warrior. He stumbled, trying to hold onto his blade, his head tilting forward as he came to his knee. I gave him a firm backhand across the face. He crumpled to the ground.

  The man with the blind eye danced away, out of my range. He kept his sword up, but he did not make any move to attack. His eyes darted from Ghisanyo, to Neka, to me, and then out towards the darkness.

  Neka stood up and stepped away from Ghisanyo’s unconscious form. She followed the eye of the warrior who was still standing, then called out in a loud voice, “Cordar! Are you okay?”

  My heart leapt to hear his voice respond in the distance. “I am fine, Neka. I’ll be there in just a moment.”

  My eyes danced between the one-eyed warrior and Neka. “Well, that was unexpected.”

  “I have spent
the whole day with that arrogant man. We needed a show of force. I saw the opportunity, so I took it.”

  “Fair enough. But what if this just makes him more angry?”

  “If anything, it will win his respect. We have cowered to his demands the whole day. Now he will understand that we were only biding our time. He will be more careful from here on out.”

  The sound of approaching footsteps scrunched through the sand, and Cordar walked into the circle of light. “Hello, you two,” he said. The body of the Kkadie warrior who had been guarding him was slung over his shoulders. When he got near the fire, he crouched and dropped the warrior into the sand with a thump. “This is Hesh,” Cordar said. “Don’t worry. I didn’t kill him.”

  “What should we do with this one?” I said, pointing at one-eye.

  To his credit, the one-eyed warrior had not run. After he saw how dangerous we were, he was not foolish enough to attack. But he did not abandon his companions.

  Neka looked at him, and asked, in his tongue, “What is your name?”

  He pursed his lips, deciding whether to answer her question. “Socha,” he finally said.

  “Drop your sword, Socha, and come sit by the fire. It has been a long day. We all need rest. As long as you do not try anything foolish, we will not hurt you. And when your master here wakes up, we will start from the beginning.”

  Socha paused for one more moment, then stuck his sword down, the blade sinking deep into the sand, the hilt wobbling in the air. He walked around to the far side of the fire and sat, his legs crossed, his hands resting on his thighs.

  We watched each other from across the fire.

  * * *

  Ghisanyo let out a long groan. Moonlight filtered down from an opening in the ceiling, casting his umber skin in pale light. I watched as he lifted his head, looking around the smooth, stone walls of the underground room.

  I was kneeling in the shadowed corner of the room, out of his line of sight. He did not know it, but while he was unconscious, we had put a transponder underneath his skin, next to the bones behind his ear. We sealed the incision right away, leaving no visible evidence that anything had happened to him. He might have felt a faint itch or lingering irritation in that spot, but it would hardly be noticeable in comparison to the bruises Neka had left him with.