by Carol Buhler
UNINVITED
Joedon XVIII Tells His Story
Copyright © by Carol Buhler, 2018
Cover by Les Petersen
A Novella of the Lillith Chronicles
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events are products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced for any purpose without the express written permission from the author.
Contents
Part I
The Landing
Getting Acquainted
Joint Efforts
Expansion
Part II
Aggravations and Injuries
Secrets
Pushing the Agreements
Friendships
Part III
Tensions
Franktown
Petersborough
Johnstown
Vuddonville
Part IV
Understanding Doesn’t Help
Escalation
Consequences
Changes and Robbers
Part V
Warnings
War
Stealth and Surprise
Continuing Conflict
The Plan
Erasure
Afterword by Joedon XIX
Glossary
Members of the Joe Family
Other Characters
Lineage
To Enjoy More
Sneak Peek
Lillith
About the Lillith Chronicles
Lillith Chapter 1
Lillith Chapter 2
About Carol Buhler
Part I
Date: Junry 13, 805 through Decry 807
Location: Gareeth, Joe family homestead and surroundings
1. The Landing
“Papa. Papa!” The door slammed open and my four-year-old son careened into the room at full speed, his usual mode of travel. “Something huge is falling out of the sky!”
“Jol. You must not interrupt our meeting.” I frowned at him even though the three other Speakers at the table with me wore indulgent expressions.
“But it’s huge!” Jol shouted.
“Yes. You said that. Now apologize to Cousin Sardon for your rudeness.”
He spun on his heel and opened his mouth just as the entire house started to shake.
“Chut!” I yelped and lunged to my feet. I raced out the front door only to slam to a stop and stare across the broad plain that stretched from my home to the horizon. It was definitely huge, whatever it was that slowly touched ground about ten kilometers away, belching flame. My only rational thought was that fire would scorch the fields in this dry weather. That thought instantly drowned within the swirling terror that had frozen me to the spot.
Aarnyon landed at my back and wrapped his neck halfway around me, nearly pulling me off my feet. His quivering neck kept me unbalanced as his frantic queries wrestled with the panic in my head. I glanced to my left where Sardon stood, mouth dropped open and eyes big. His mind-mate was in no better shape; the grey’s eyes rolled red in fear and his legs trembled.
Jol jumped against me, grabbing at my arm. “What is it, Papa?” I looked down at his eager face—not filled with dread as I’m sure mine was.
“I don’t know, son.” My voice broke as I took in his innocent expression. He had no fear. He didn’t understand how dangerous such a thing as the monster out there might be.
Fortunately, Sardon kept his head. “It’s going to set fire to the plains,” he screamed. His order hit my ears and mind at the same time. “Summon the fire brigade!”
Thankful for something normal to concentrate on, I whirled to leap onto Aarnyon, sending Jol back to the house for safety. Korola had just stepped out the front door with our baby daughter in her arms. “Keep inside until I have more information,” I hollered. “Hide in the cellar, if you have to.”
My wife, quick on the uptake, grabbed Jol by the collar and dragged him, protesting loudly, back inside. I saw a swift swirl of skirt before the heavy door slammed. Not knowing how much she’d seen, I sent further instructions through our mind-mates, told her I loved her, and followed Sardon. Would I live to see them again?
Others had gathered and in the sky I saw more approaching. I leaned over and snatched a set of water panniers, draped them over Aarnyon’s shoulders, and we headed for the lake. As agonizingly slow as it always seemed, they quickly filled to the brim, I slammed down the tops, and my mind-mate flung himself toward the already expanding fire, both of us trying to ignore the metal thing itself.
It was impossible to ignore. It had to be a machine and it was a lot bigger close up than it had seemed from my front yard. An ever-expanding ring of flames circled it. I had no idea if it had weapons, would shoot us on sight, or would be benign as we attempted to keep our precious grasslands from going up in smoke.
Sardon had already dumped his load. I emptied my panniers as Aarnyon swept just feet from the ground. My breathing relaxed somewhat as nothing dangerous came, yet, from the thing that had caused the problem. Other reeth-don pairs were circling the monster, spreading their water as efficiently as possible. Aarnyon and I streaked back to the lake to refill.
Unlike a normal fire-fighting effort, no one sent messages among the reeth; we fought in eerie silence. It was as if the others were as determined as I was to do our job and not let fear of the unknown stop us from tasks we’d mastered from childhood. My muscles moved automatically, leaving me too much time to think, so I again forced thoughts of the metal thing out of my head and concentrated on the pannier tops. We headed toward the crackling, smoky lowland again. The now roaring flames and rolling smoke almost turned us back.
We’d had no chance to prepare. The flimsy clothing I wore for the meeting did nothing to protect me from the heat. Aarynon’s mane almost sizzled as I held on with one hand and tipped the pannier with the other. He jigged and swerved to avoid rising steam as our load poured onto the flames below. Just as I’d emptied the last of my second pannier, some sort of horn hooted loudly. I took the strange noise as a warning from the monstrosity and we swept away as fast as Aarnyon could fly, our hearts pounding in such fear as I’d never known. Looking back, I saw a huge blast of liquid-like fog pour from the metal invader, dousing all remnants of fire.
“Well,” I said mentally to Aarnyon. “That was helpful.” Even to me, I sounded shocky, my mind stuttering over the thought. He swung around and we faced the monster. Although my initial panic had disappeared somewhat as we’d fought a familiar enemy—fire—it came rushing back with full force. What was waiting for us in that thing?
We firefighters formulated a hasty plan via reeth telepathy; mind-mated pairs formed a perimeter outside the burned area, tensely brave. We had no defense against whatever might come from the metal horror, but its help with the fire was encouraging. No one dared to land; reeth shifted in the air in small patterns, ready to flee in an instant, if necessary.
A shudder swept along Aarnyon’s back and up mine when a piece of the machine swung slowly open. It reached the ground and formed easily recognizable stairs. My mind-mate shifted abruptly sideways, almost dumping me off as a figure appeared in the doorway and seemed to survey our forces. I forced my instantly tight throat and leaden tongue to mutter soothingly to my mount. “It looks like us. Two legs, two arms, a head.” It shone, as if made of metal like its vehicle.
It started down the stairway; awkward, I thought. Is it made of metal? No sort of emotion emanated from it. Is it even alive? My stomach clenched and I felt like fleeing to the mountains. Aarnyon was more than ready. The sweat of fear slid off my back, from my forehead, under my arms. Still, we held our place. I would not flee, no matter what.
It was my responsibility to deal with whatever those things were.
Another figure appeared behind the first, and another. Ten of the creatures descended to the ground. While varying in size, they all seemed short. That made me feel better. And, they held their arms loosely at their sides which indicated they were not aggressive. Still, none of us ventured nearer. Through the quivering in Aarnyon’s sides, I knew he was ready to dart in any direction at my slightest thought. He radiated terror, but held fast.
The leader reached up and took off his head and tucked it under an arm. I swallowed a shriek before realizing it was only a helmet. And the shiny stuff was some sort of suit, not skin.
We stared at them; they stared at us.
Something shot forward—I caught the motion from the corner of my eye. “That chuten boy!” I screamed and Aarnyon was instantly flying frantically to intercept. Jol had obviously escaped his mother and was aimed straight at the strangers on his own reeth-mate. He beat me to them and was on the ground, tiny but brave, before the ten figures when I reached them.
There was nothing else I could do. I flung myself off Aarnyon and strode to stand between my son and the aliens. My heart pounded even as I admitted, none of them had made a move toward him. Hope they recognize he’s only a child.
Then I noted that I towered over them. Aarnyon, at my shoulder, was even bigger. One figure stepped forward and before I could react, Jol darted in front and cried, “Welcome.” A smile as big as any I’d ever seen beamed from his face and he’d flung his arms wide. Every muscle in my body tensed for attack as the figure bent forward. Through a haze of fear, I realized the face moving toward my son was very like one of the don, and it was smiling.
To my shock, the figure responded, “Thank you for the wonderful welcome.” I clearly understood the words although the accent made them sound garbled. How does this creature speak our language?
The face turned up to me and the voice continued, “We’re sorry we started the fire. We hope no permanent damage has been done.”
Tension seeped out of me and I drew in a deep breath to steady my voice. “How is it I understand you? Who are you? What are you?” I was babbling, not reacting at all the way the Supreme Don should.
The creature rose to its full height and looked up to talk with me. I sensed he was as perplexed as me—and just as scared. It dawned on me that my emotion-reading ability worked with this newcomer as well as it did with my fellow don—and the creature was definitely alive, despite the metal appearance. My worry lessened. If I can read him, I can sense what he’ll do.
“I could ask the same of you,” he said. I was convinced it was male. “There aren’t supposed to be intelligent beings on this world.”
Another creature approached the speaker and I felt comfort that Sardon had landed and was standing at my side. His mind-mate arranged himself like Aarnyon, the pair of them forming a solid barrier at our backs.
The newcomer said, “They gave us bad data, as usual.” It made no sense to me. Evidently it did to the first critter.
Remarkably, Jol had been silent up to that point. Then, he blurted, “My name is Jol. This is my papa, Joedon, and that is my cousin, Sardon. These are our mind-mates.” He pointed as he introduced them. “The black is Aarnyon, the grey is Paddyon, and mine, the palomino, is Taggert.”
The two faces seemed confused to be introduced to our mind-mates. The first said, “You give your horses names?”
Jol bristled with indignation at the creature’s dismissive tone. “They are not horses, whatever that is.” His voice turned scornful. “They are reeth. And they are our friends!”
“I’m sorry, young sir. I didn’t mean to imply they weren’t your friends. We have animals that look similar to your reeth on our home world. We call them horses. But to answer your polite introductions, my name is Samuel Jefferson, Captain and pilot of the Far Seeker, our ship...” He waved a hand toward the metal giant. “This is my First Officer, Peter Mason. We are called humans and we’ve come from Earth to establish a colony here on this beautiful world. We were assured there were no natives here.”
Although I heard the words, I didn’t understand what they meant. “They’ve traveled through the air in this machine?” I asked Aarnyon, who passed my words to Paddyon, who passed them on to Sardon. That way, these “humans” wouldn’t hear us conferring.
“That’s what I think he means,” Sardon sent back through the reeth telepathy.
“By Captain, do I assume that means you are the leader?” I asked. He nodded and I continued, “I am the Supreme Don, therefore, I am the leader of my people. Are there more of you?”
“Yes. What luck to encounter you first off,” the human named Captain Samuel Jefferson said. “We have colonists aboard who hope to make homes for themselves here on this planet. Our world is over-crowded and these folks—and me, of course—want to live freely. Not crowded into polluted cities, in tiny apartments, away from fresh air and greenery.”
The only word I understood was “homes.” Guessing at the rest, I assumed they wanted to build new homes here on our world. “How many?” I asked suspiciously.
“We have ten thousand aboard, in deep sleep.”
Again, I had no idea what he meant. The ship looked big, but how could it hold that many?
Sardon whispered aloud. “That’s twice our population.” He stepped in front of me and pointedly addressed the second human. “Peter Mason, how do you speak our language?”
“Beats me.” The words meant nothing but he’d shrugged. I decided he didn’t know any more than I did. “We can understand you,” he went on. “That’s a surprise. Your accent’s strange and we don’t know what a reeth is, but we do know what a fire is and we helped put it out. I’m from a farming background and can’t wait to dig my hands into that rich-looking soil.”
He grabbed his Captain’s shoulder. “Who cares if they’re here. The one the kid called Sardon just said we outnumber them two to one.” He sounded excited and a faint worry flashed through me. I sensed something about him that bothered me—like he would be the type to take whatever he wanted regardless of obstacles or consequences. “Let’s wake ‘em up and make ourselves at home.”
“We need to keep an eye on that one,” I thought to Aarnyon. “The Captain seems honest. That Peter Mason, I don’t know.” He sent me back his concurrence.
The Captain glanced around at our hovering friends and relatives. I counted thirty-five that had responded to our fire alarm. We could overwhelm these ten standing in front of us if things turned bad. However, we had no idea how many were inside, those not in deep-sleep, whatever that meant, nor what kinds of weapons the humans might use. And the Captain did radiate friendliness, unlike the other one.
Jol took the initiative out of my hands, again. “Why don’t you come up to the house, meet my mom and baby sister, and have something to eat?” He pointed up to the bluff and our home.
Sardon and I shared despairing looks. He said, via reeth, “Better to get them away from this ‘ship’ thing and whatever is inside. We have to learn more about them.”
“I agree. We sure don’t have a way to make that thing go back where it came from.”
“Maybe we’ll have a chance to overpower them at your house and use them to force the ship to leave,” Sardon sent back. “But we don’t want to take too many chances until we get your family away from there.”
“Thank you.” I felt the ship and the newcomers were way too close to my home for my comfort and planned to send Korola and the children away as soon as I could without aggravating the strangers. Apparently Sardon shared my worry.
The Captain was already walking away, headed toward my house. Jol rushed to walk by his side, and offered him a ride on his reeth-mate.
The Captain looked at Taggert, whose shoulder came to the height of the human’s chin. “No thanks, young Jol. I prefer to walk.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Come on, men. Let’s see what we can see on this lovely world.” The other nine humans
followed him.
Sardon and I mounted, invited the other mind-mated pairs to join us, and headed for the house. I ordered Jol to fly with us; he obeyed.
As we covered the short distance, I pondered the Captain’s words—wondering if the word “men” meant the same to humans that “homm” meant for us. I assumed the ones walking with the Captain were male. Does that mean they are the warriors and human females bear children and don’t fight?
“That’s a dangerous assumption,” Aarnyon said. I agreed to not make any guesses before learning more about these creatures.
As we flew, Sardon and I decided to keep reeth abilities secret for the time being. The humans seemed to demean our mind-mates instinctively and that could work in our favor if hostilities arose. I asked Aarnyon to spread our decision among the rest of our supporters. The reeth chose to depart as soon as we landed and head for the nearby lake so they could listen as we talked to the humans, and be near at hand if we needed them.
2. Getting Acquainted
Korola obviously had seen the newcomers making their way toward the house. When Jol and I arrived, she stood in the doorway, dressed to impress. Of course, her mind-mate had also passed along my warning.
Jol knew better than to run his grubby arms around her legs when she wore the shimmering silver gauze over her dark riding leggings. So, he simply bounced up to her with his news, careful not to touch. “They’re called humans and they’re coming for snacks.” For a moment, his face crumbled at her stern gaze. “We have something, don’t we?”
She relented and smiled. “Yes, Jol. Now go inside and wash your face, hands and arms.” He shot away, dodging around her.
She met my eyes in apology for letting him get away; I nodded briefly to tell her I understood. For some reason, Jol was as slippery as a worm—always sneaking off when attention was turned away for but a moment. My mother claimed I hadn’t been like that at his age.
