Wastelands

by Jack Porter

  But the indicators were clear. The giant was not invulnerable. Neither was I, for that matter. Although, somehow I’d survived what should have been total oblivion.

  Regardless, it wasn’t wise to assume invulnerability in the height of battle, and I wasn’t going to start at that moment. The tide of the battle was turning, and it wouldn’t be long before one or other of us made an even more serious mistake.

  The woman behind us seemed to sense the same thing. Once more she called out. “Rogan!” she cried. “There’s too many of them for this! Use your chi!”

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but apparently my new body did. And once again, it seemed I didn’t have any choice. I felt myself starting to act on her words before I even knew what I was doing.

  I unleashed a leaping tornado of an attack with my sword to clear the immediate area, and when I landed on the ground once again, I did… something.

  I couldn’t understand it. One moment, I was standing there filled with strength, my sword in one hand. The next, I reached up to the sky and gave a visceral shout. Somehow, that triggered something within me. I felt a sense of power well up from my core and erupt from me like I was a goblin’s energy weapon, only much, much stronger.

  I exploded into a ball of white fire that quickly expanded. Somehow, I directed it toward the bulk of the approaching hybrids, and, with a crack! like that of thunder, my wedge of energy quickly engulfed them.

  And then it was over. As I stood there aghast at what I had done, those surviving hybrids and other creatures turned tail and ran.

  I brought my empty hand up to my face and stared at my palm as if it would explain what had happened. If I had needed more proof that some weird shit was going on, that was it. I knew I was no longer on Earth. That I was somewhere else, that I was a stranger in a strange land, and I had more power than I could have believed.

  Except that the power was far from unlimited. I felt incredibly weary, and thought it was probably a good thing that the bad guys had left.

  Because I had nothing more to give. My sword suddenly felt as heavy as it always should have done. More than that, my legs started to shake, and I found myself collapsing to my knees.

  I felt dizzy and knew I was about to pass out. Yet perhaps I was stronger than I thought. I took a moment to look at the corpses gathered around me and had one more momentous surprise.

  One of the corpses, a small man with the ears of a rabbit and oversized incisors, wore a variety of things around his neck like they were pieces of jewelry.

  Bits of metal, mostly. Scraps he’d obviously found in or around the spaceship. But one of his necklaces was different from the rest.

  I recognized it. It was an AC lens.

  With the last of my strength, I forced myself over to him and ripped the necklace from his body just to make sure.

  There was no mistake. It was an AC lens, a protected lens with a whole bunch of technology hidden within.

  And it looked complete.

  “What. The. Fuck?” I said. Only my words were slurred so it sounded funny. And then I laughed. Because this was some fucked up shit, and I must have been dreaming the whole time. Or dead. Or in a coma. Or insane.

  One thing was for certain. This was indeed Earth, after all.

  And then the weakness I felt got the better of me, and I toppled over with the AC lens grasped in my hand.

  12

  I had no idea how long I was out. But when I came back, it was with a vengeance.

  One moment, I was blissfully asleep, unaware of my surroundings, and the next, it was like I was inhaling a gob of wasabi. I scrambled back and sat upright, trying hard not to retch. Not only did the fumes stick in my throat and make me want to cough, but they also made my eyes water. I had to blink the tears away before I could see.

  When I could, I found myself no longer in the dirt next to the remains of a spaceship, but in a small space tightly packed with different, ornately carved chests stacked on top of one another and numerous crystalline ornaments hanging from the ceiling. I was half-sitting on a low cot and had apparently pushed several brightly colored cushions out of my way in my blind scramble. By the small size of the space and the way it seemed to be shifting beneath me, I finally realized where was in one of the wagons I’d seen, and it was being drawn by the cow-beasts.

  And I wasn’t alone. For the first time, I was face-to-face with the woman who’d called my name. She was kneeling on one of the cushions as she replaced the stopper in a small vial containing a muddy purple liquid. My first thought was that she could have been beautiful if it weren’t for the hard, flat expression on her face. Then again, she was made up like Queen Amidala, so for all I knew her beauty could have been the result of all that paint.

  But somehow, I didn’t get that impression. She was small but a bit curvy, dressed in silk robes that made me think of a geisha, and her dark hair had been arranged into an intricate design around several jade and gold combs and pieces of jewelry. If it weren’t for the somewhat saucy way her lips were arranged, the effect would have been like something out of the Chinese history books. Like a Chinese princess. Still, it was obvious she was pissed about something, and the look wasn’t great on her.

  She tucked the vial away in her robe. Smelling salts, I thought, or something similar. This woman had used the liquid to jolt me back to consciousness.

  I tried to speak and ended up coughing to clear the foul stench of it from my throat, but as soon as I could, I asked my first question.

  “Hey,” I began. “Where am I?”

  The woman’s eyes flashed in anger. They were an unusual color, almost amber, luminous and unusual. Yet before she replied, a very strange creature seemed to come out of nowhere. My first thought was that it was a monkey but with too many arms. It hurled itself toward me, and I flinched away from it as best as I could in the cramped space, raising my hands as a barrier between it and me.

  The creature whirled its little arms at me for a moment, screeching as if I’d upset it, and then leapt up to the ceiling, grabbing hold of one of the crossbars that kept the canvas in place.

  “What the fuck?” I said. Now that I could see it properly, I thought it looked a bit like a lemur, with a tiny head and fluffy tail. Since I was normally averse to hurting anything furry and vaguely cute, I just sat still and tried not to antagonize it.

  The woman ignored the six-legged monkey’s antics and shot a scathing look at me. “Rogan Ward, you forget yourself. You are bound to me as my protector. As such, you will address me by my title and show the respect due to my rank. Have I made myself clear?”

  Her expression never changed as she spoke, and I was immediately pissed at her.

  “Look, lady, I don’t know who you are or who you think I am. I just want to know what the fuck is going on.”

  That earned me another lecture from the monkey, but at least I had the satisfaction of seeing the woman’s eyes open wide in shock.

  “You dare to address me in such a familiar way–” she began, but I’d had enough.

  “I’ll talk to you any damn way I see fit!” I said. “I don’t know if you noticed, but it was me out there killing all those half-breed whatever-the-fuck-they-were things that attacked us. I don’t know what they wanted, but how do you think things would have gone if I hadn’t been there? Now, for the love of all that is holy, can you please just tell me what the fuck is going on?”

  At this, the monkey thing went completely bananas. Screeching was no longer a good enough outlet for its rage, so it flung itself toward me, pelting me with its fists as it scurried all around me. I got battered from every direction at once, and it was all I could do to stop myself from swatting it aside.

  Instead, I plucked it out of the air with an act of coordination I’d never been able to achieve before. The creature uttered a surprised little screech and froze in my grip.

  “And you can tell your pet monkey to back off as well,” I said.

  The woman glared at me for long
moments. It was as if she couldn’t decide to respond with outrage or anger. Then, she tilted her head to one side and went with uncertainty instead.

  “You don’t know who you are,” she said.

  It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

  “I know who I am,” I growled. Once again, I found myself looking at my hands, still wrapped around the monkey and not recognizing them. My hands were average-sized with long fingers and pale skin. The hands I wore now were darker, bigger, and heavily calloused. They looked like strong hands. Practical hands. The type of hands that could wield a bastard sword like the one I’d used to hack the hybrids to pieces.

  “But I don’t know any of this,” I said, gesturing with my free hand. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know why we were attacked. And I don’t know where I am.”

  In my head, I still wasn’t convinced any of it was real. I again went through the options in my head. Dead. Coma. Dream.

  The Chinese princess woman gave a single nod.

  “Perhaps I believe you. Perhaps the spellcaster damaged your mind. How else to explain the foolishness of unleashing your chi all at once? The Rogan Ward I know would never have acted so rashly.” Her expression hardened. “Nor would he speak to me without the proper deferments. So, perhaps, when the spellcaster struck, she took some part of your memory away.”

  Spellcaster? I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. It reminded me uncomfortably much of the wraiths. But even that was less important than my first concern.

  “Please, your ladyship, whoever you are. Can you not just answer my questions?”

  The woman glared at me. “Unhand my Edda,” she said.

  For a moment, I didn’t know what she was talking about. Then it dawned on me. She had named the chittering monkey-thing Edda.

  “Only if you keep your screeching monkey under control,” I said.

  “You dare–?!” the woman demanded. Somehow, even though she remained perfectly still, she gave the impression she was about to launch herself at me in attack. Yet she recovered herself, bringing herself back under control. “It is very apparent you are no longer the Rogan Ward I know. Not only do you lack his manners, but you also lack his sense of place. He would know that a single word from me and you would be flogged for disrespect!”

  I was starting to seriously dislike this woman. “Yet you allow your pet to disrespect me?” I asked.

  She had no answer to this. Instead, she glared at me again. As stiff as a statue, she repeated. “Let my Edda go.”

  I held onto the annoying creature for half a beat longer. Then I did as the woman asked. Edda fell onto my lap and blinked, seemingly startled by her unexpected freedom. She uttered a screech and waved her little fists at me, but the moment I twitched in her direction, she scampered over behind the woman and peeked out over her shoulder.

  I didn’t want to repeat myself. Yet it seemed I had little choice. “Please, your ladyship, if that’s what I call you. Tell me what I need to know.”

  Her mask of immobility cracked. Just a little, just enough to show a sneer of contempt. Yet, finally, she spoke again.

  “My name is Lady Gamma de Leon, of the Forgotten City de Leons. I am completing a pilgrimage across the Wastes and beyond, to the Hidden Temple. You, Rogan Ward, are one of my protectors, having sworn a blood oath to preserve my life for the journey. As of this moment, I am dissatisfied with your service. It has been barely a fortnight, and already you have lost us my drivers, servants, and my guardsmen, with the exception of Ash, my childhood protector. I should have left you in the dirt for the bandits, but you still have skills that might prove useful, so I had Ash place you in my personal wagon. Where you sit, casting disrespect toward me and my Edda.”

  I took a moment to digest her words. As soon as she mentioned the Hidden Temple, my mind went straight to the image I’d had when I was dead. I didn’t know if that temple and the one this Lady Gamma mentioned were the same, but it seemed a coincidence at the very least.

  But that was a quandary for later. I still didn’t know where I was. I wanted to demand more answers, wanted to better figure out what I was up against, but something she had said got through.

  She could have left me behind in the dirt. I’d been unconscious. If those crazy hybrid things returned, I wouldn’t have been able to defend myself, no matter how good I was with that oversized sword.

  I’d never really thought of myself as an ungrateful person. Determined, yes. Sometimes aggressive, when the need arose. But not ungrateful.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For taking me with you. And for letting me use your wagon.”

  Apparently, it wasn’t good enough. The Lady de Leon’s eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips. “And still, he forgets the most basic of courtesy. My name, in case you have forgotten again already, is Lady Gamma de Leon.”

  I nodded again. “Lady de Leon,” I repeated.

  “That’s better. Now, it is quite unseemly for you to ride in my wagon with me. So, if you have sufficiently recovered, I would appreciate it if you were to remove yourself with all haste and take up your place next to Ash.”

  She really was the most irritating woman. Her tone left no doubt that she expected me to leave her wagon immediately and continue the journey on foot. Once again, I felt the compulsion to obey, but it was weaker than before. As if her expectations didn’t quite match the strength of an order.

  But there wasn’t any physical reason I couldn’t obey. Despite my efforts, despite a sense of weariness deep in my bones, I knew I was fit and strong. Stronger than I’d ever been before, in fact. But the idea of bowing to this Lady Gamma’s will really did stick in my craw.

  “You haven’t told me–” I began, but she cut me off.

  “Leave now,” she said. “If you have further questions, you can get your answers from Ash.”

  I glowered at the woman even though I didn’t seem to have much of a choice. I didn’t know what swearing a blood oath entailed, but it wasn’t a joke. In fact, this time, she had issued an order.

  Without choosing to do so, I was nodding my head.

  “Yes, Lady De Leon,” I said. I took up my sword from where it rested beside the cot and sought an exit. As I made my way through the wagon to the opening at the end, I saw the AC lens I had plucked from the rabbit man’s corpse.

  Without asking, I collected that as well and made my way outside, back into the dirt.

  13

  I couldn’t keep the sardonic smile off my face as I stepped down from the wagon onto the hard-packed earth. Somehow, this irritating painted lady was able to compel me. She had ordered me out of her wagon and my feet had complied without bothering to ask permission of my brain. I had no choice in the matter. My body had simply responded to Lady Gamma’s words as if there was no choice in the matter.

  I didn’t understand what a blood oath might be, or how it worked. Was it some form of magic? Or something else entirely?

  Whatever it was, it took away my free will and turned me into a slave.

  And that idea didn’t sit well with me at all.

  But there seemed to be little I could do about it. The compulsion was still very much in place. I couldn’t simply climb back up into the wagon and confront Lady Gamma. I couldn’t do anything except follow her orders.

  The wagons were tethered to one another, with Lady Gamma’s in the lead. Fortunately, they weren’t going at more than walking pace. I was in no danger of being trampled by the cow-lizard creatures that pulled the other wagon. All I needed to do was step sideways to get out of the way.

  A quick glance around told me that I’d been unconscious for longer than I realized. We were a long way from the broken spaceship. It was so far away that at first, I couldn’t even see it. Then I noticed a dark curve a long way behind us, almost at the horizon. That had to be it. It didn’t match the surrounding landscape of rocky terrain, dust, and sand.

  For no reason other than that I didn’t want to spend my time carrying it, I put my AC lens on
. With nothing to power it, the heads-up display didn’t show, although I would have been very interested to see what it said. But it wasn’t entirely useless. It could still protect my eyes. This wasteland we were walking through was hot and dry, and the air was filled with dust. Gusts of wind created tiny eddies of dust all the time, kicking dirt and sand around before fading away into nothing once more.

  The rest of me seemed well-prepared for the conditions. I was wearing multiple layers of clothing that seemed designed to protect me from the sun without hampering my movements in any way. One of those layers came in the form of a scarf-like thing I could use to cover my nose and mouth. With my AC lens to keep the dust from my eyes, I could walk in relative comfort.

  The looming giant I’d fought beside wasn’t difficult to spot. He was up front, walking beside the lead cow-beast, leading it like I might have led a puppy on a leash. The sheer size of the creature was intimidating. Yet Lady Gamma had made it clear that we were both on the same side, whatever side that happened to be. And we had fought side-by-side to protect her and the wagons. If this monster, this troll called Ash, was a danger to me, I would have known it by now.

  In a smooth, fluid move that I made without even thinking, I slung my great sword over my back and felt it click into place. I didn’t know what sort of mechanism was there to hold it, but I didn’t really have to. It simply worked, and I didn’t really want to be holding onto sixty pounds of metal as I walked.

  With my hands free and the sword securely in place, I hurried to catch up with the troll.

  He acknowledged my arrival with a grunt and wordlessly offered me his water pouch.

  I realized then that I was incredibly thirsty. No matter how fit I had suddenly become, no matter how proof against the environment I now was, I couldn’t survive without water. I thanked the troll and drank deeply, then passed the waterskin back.

  The troll seemed to be content to keep walking forever without saying a word. I kept pace and surreptitiously studied my companion, noting the new bandage on his leg where the panther man had struck. Yet if Ash felt any pain or discomfort from the wound, he didn’t say anything. Nor did his gait give any indication that the wound was any more than a scratch.