The Hope Island Chronicles Boxed Set

by PJ Strebor

  "Lucas Telford was the finest man I have ever known. On the day I heard Bellinda had been lost, I wept, as I had not done since I was your age." He brushed the dirt from his hands. "I will tell you this much. We bled together. And during that time we gave one another a pledge. If one of us were to fall the other would take care of his family. Your father considered the possibility that you might be left alone if the worse that could happen, did happen. And so you are here because of my pledge."

  "And mine."

  Nathan's eyes wandered along the neatly furrowed lines of coffee trees to where the rain forest brushed up against the firebreak.

  "I don't want you straying too far from the homestead Nathan," Caleb said. "There are a lot of dangerous animals outside the perimeter."

  A short smirk darted onto Nathan’s face.

  "I mean it, Nathan," Caleb snapped.

  "All right, Caleb." Whatever he had experienced over the last seven years, the dangers of the rain forest held no fears for him.

  "Will you show me the rain forest?"

  Caleb nodded, forced down his frustration, and took hold of his rifle that hung from a shoulder strap. Nathan had been eyeing the firearm since they left the homestead.

  “Do you know what this is?” he asked, brandishing the rifle.

  “I’ve seen an image somewhere, but no.”

  “This, young man, is a seven point six, two millimeter caliber, bolt action, repeating rifle. It fires a lead projectile powered by exploding gas.”

  “It’s really old, isn’t it?”

  Caleb nodded.

  “Where did you get it?”

  “Abner Lawrence introduced me to it some years ago. He’s an old friend of mine, a former marine. You’ll like him. Anyway, Abner has a friend who makes them to order. Mainly for collectors and the like but occasionally for people who simply like its brutal simplicity. If you want to see how it works you can join us next time we go hunting. If that appeals to you.”

  “It does.”

  Crossing the dusty hundred-meter-wide firebreak, they followed the track under the canopy of the rain forest. Caleb stopped to give his eyes time to adjust to the relative gloom. Nathan stood with his head cocked to one side, sniffing the fresh moist odors, listening intently to the silence that accompanied their entry into the overhang. He looked like someone who had just returned home after a long absence.

  Caleb shifted the hunting rifle in his hands, alert for any sound or movement, and followed as Nathan ventured deeper into the vegetation.

  They continued along the track for nearly half an hour, exchanging only brief comments. After stopping to examine several types of dry wood, Nathan found a piece that conjured a smile. Caleb looked on as he propped one end into the firm soil and bent the other end toward him.

  Nathan was obviously satisfied with his unusual find. “Caleb, do you have any woodworking tools in your workshop?”

  CHAPTER 11

  Time: 10th February, 312 ASC.

  Position: Taylor’s Bend, Mullally Province. Planet Kastoria.

  Status: Settling in.

  Moe Okuma's family had been neighbors with the Penkovskys for as long as she could remember. Of course, to her that had only been fourteen years, but the feeling of fond permanency comforted her. Within an environment like the isolated provinces of Kastoria, your nearest neighbors, even if they lived twenty kilometers away, could mean the difference between life and death. The Okumas and the Penkovskys were close not just as neighbors or allies, but like an extended family. Life in the provinces differed significantly from that of those who dwelt within the safety of the larger towns and cities. People of the land tended to have a more unwavering affinity with one another.

  The newest addition to the Penkovsky homestead sat, as he usually did at this time of the day, under the huge plocker tree that grew at the north end of the Taylor's Bend High School. The droopy green tree spread its branches across the small knoll that overlooked the curve in the Arbicore River on which the township of Taylor’s Bend snuggled.

  Lunchtime at the school usually involved the speedy consumption of food, followed by as much fun as could be squeezed into the remaining time. Apparently, Nathan Telford's idea of fun consisted of isolating himself from the rest of the students to sit under the tree reading. Alone.

  Moe had met him twice prior to the commencement of the new school year, once at her parent's place and once at the Penkovsky homestead. Visits between the neighboring families were all too rare and everyone looked forward to such occasions, making a celebration of each get together.

  After dinner at the Penkovsky’s, Caleb showed a selection from his vid collection, an event that she always looked forward to. Try as she might to avoid doing so, the antics of Laurel and Hardy always made her giggle like a girl, which embarrassed her no end. She found herself falling into uncontrollable fits of laughter whenever the larger one addressed the long skinny one with such condescension. The words, 'Well Stanley, here's another fine mess you've gotten us into,' caused her to shriek in a shamefully girlish way. She loved her visits to the Penkovskys.

  The two times she had met Nathan he had displayed an extremely closed-mouthed attitude. When he did speak he did not seem shy, but kept his comments to a minimum. He seemed unusually nervous around her, yet showed no such reticent around Lucy. Then again, boys had always been a mystery to her. She tried to talk to him but he seemed unwilling to make up the other half of the conversation. Moe began to wonder if there was something about her that he did not like.

  By the end of the first week at school, Moe came to understand that his wary attitude had not been directed exclusively at her. He appeared to be incapable of communicating with the other students and his guarded attitude kept him in a state of perpetual uneasiness around them.

  A few of the local girls had said “Hi Nathan,” then giggled at his awkwardness. Some of the boys had tried speaking to him as well. His reply wasn’t unfriendly, just typically brief.

  Moe surmised that being new to the school, and to the province, he probably felt like an outsider. He knew no one but his newly acquired family, with whom he still struggled to get past an arm’s-length relationship. Then there was the trifling matter of Bellinda and six years of Pruessen slavery to consider.

  In class, Nathan never asked questions or for that matter ever volunteered to answer them. If he was called upon to answer a question he would do so, and usually his answer would be correct. On the odd occasions when he gave a wrong answer, Moe suspected that he did so deliberately. Why he would do such a thing baffled her.

  Although taciturn, he seemed friendly enough, but any attempt to continue a conversation with him took on all the difficulties of home dentistry. Yet, she had never met a boy quite like him. Moe feared that she could be suffering from the terrifying effects of her first crush. He, on the other hand, probably didn't know she existed, even though they sat next to one another in class.

  Moe burned to understand this strange, bright boy, and so had decided that today would be as good a time as any to start. She steeled herself as she marched up to the tree under which he sat.

  "Hi," she said.

  Nathan looked up from his pad and smiled gently. "Hello, Moe."

  At their first meeting her mother introduced her by using her given names, Mary Anne. Moe detested that her parents had chosen to lumber her with such a girlie name. It had taken only a short time for her to rid him of that nasty habit. After that initial time, he never called her anything but Moe. Just as well if he wanted to stay healthy. Yet, it turned out to be another beginning that went nowhere.

  "Hi," she repeated, feeling a little foolish. "Ah, what are you reading?" He handed her the computer pad and she tapped up the title of the novel. "The Odyssey? I've never read Homer, what's it about?"

  "It's about a man who gets lost on his way home," Nathan said. "He has to endure many battles and overcome great opposition, but when he finally arrives back at hi
s home he kills everyone who has dishonored his family." His eyes stared off-world for a moment. "He believed in honoring his family obligation."

  "Charming," Moe said, handing the pad back to him. She franticly groped for something to fill the silence between them. "Not exactly Laurel and Hardy."

  "Who?"

  Fighting against her growing frustration and imminent meltdown, Moe pushed on. "I think it would all be Greek to me anyway." Her smile faded. He just sat there, evidently unsure whether to laugh or cry. Still he had nothing to say.

  He made her feel like an idiot rather than the naturally likeable person she cared to think of herself as. His attitude infuriated her to the point where her infamous temper took over.

  "That's a joke you know?" she snapped. "Don't you have a sense of humor? Or is it that you're too good to mix with the rest of us."

  His eyebrows came together above his nose. He rubbed the bump that marred the perfect line of his right eyebrow. Several times he glanced at her, sizing up whether or not he should continue. His beautiful gray eyes took on a shade of pained confusion. He drew in a deep breath.

  "I've been out of touch with things for a while. You know?"

  He held her gaze for a moment before looking away. Shame forced her to do the same. When he actually decided to say something he certainly made it count. In that poignant moment of realization she felt as though a wild boar had gored her in the stomach.

  Moe wanted to ask him a thousand questions so that she could, in some small way, begin to understand the kind of existence he had led that brought him to this place in life. However, Bernice and Caleb had been unequivocal on that subject. Moe had been told to treat the subject of his past with the greatest delicacy. Old wounds, she had been told, should not be reopened.

  She knew about Bellinda of course, and could only imagine in her worst nightmares how terrible it must have been for him. Yet for the first time it struck her as more than a speculative exercise. He carried the nightmare with him every waking day. She could not imagine what it would be like to lose your entire family. However, she suspected that something else lurked in his past, some terrible story of loss and suffering. Something had happened to him, leaving him in his current condition. Confused, solitary and cautious.

  They sat for a time without exchanging a word and in that silent place of their own making grew the beginning of a unique understanding between them.

  “It must have been bad, ah, in the north.”

  He nodded thoughtfully then caught himself. “I don’t remember much.”

  “Well you don’t need to worry. I’ll protect you.” She smiled and was rewarded by a return gesture.

  “Thank you very much, Moe. I’ll sleep easy knowing you’re growling at the foot of my bed.”

  Moe laughed and another miracle happened. He did too.

  They exchanged other fleeting comments throughout the rest of the da but within that reticent context the first tenuous strands of friendship were born.

  Moe learned that his closed-mouthed attitude did not fully reflect his true intent. He simply chose to speak only when he had something to say. Considering the amount of rubbish Moe heard from people, she could not argue with his approach. He did not feel the need to fill the silent times between his words with inane chatter. Once she got used to the unaccustomed silence it actually felt pretty comfortable.

  By the end of the school day she had decided that Moe Okuma and Nathan Telford were going to become genuine friends. Even if it killed him.

  After class, she followed him out the front gate to where the waiting air-cars gathered in herds to chauffeur the students to their homes. Lucy ran up to Nathan and gave him a long hug. He brushed a curly brown tassel from her eyes.

  “Did you have a good day, Lucy?”

  “It was all right, I guess. How about you.”

  Around a soft smile he said, “Better than yesterday.”

  “You’re funny sometimes.”

  “Funny ha-ha or funny odd.”

  “Both.” She giggled.

  Nathan snorted and tussled her curly hair. They may as well have been siblings. What a change.

  Moe stood back while they went through the big brother, little sister ritual. As he took her hand and began to walk toward the parking area, Moe took her chance.

  "Nathan," she called.

  He swung around with an awkward jerky movement then smiled openly. "Hello Moe." They had come to an understanding of sorts during the day and it showed in his moderately relaxed manner. "Is this where you beat me up after school?"

  "What? No. Of course not."

  His mouth formed a wry curved line. Moe rolled her eyes.

  "Can I have a word with you?" she asked.

  He nodded.

  "You're pretty good at history and I'm struggling with that assignment on political turmoil in the early twenty-first century. So I was hoping you might help me out with it."

  "I don't see a problem with that," he said. "When did you have in mind?"

  "Now." She saw the uncertainty in his eyes. "And after we finish, my brother will fly you home."

  He considered the proposal for a moment then nodded.

  "Good," she said breaking into a grin. "And because nothing is for nothing, if you help me with history, I'll teach you how to have fun."

  "An historic event in itself," he said returning her grin.

  He turned around and leaned down. "Lucy, I'm going over to the Okumas. Tell your mother that I will be in by dinner time. All right?"

  "Will you help me with my homework when you get home?"

  "You bet."

  "What will I tell mother if she asks what you're doing?"

  "Tell her that I'm…having fun."

  CHAPTER 12

  Time: 22nd June, 312 ASC.

  Position: Penkovsky Homestead, Mullally Province. Planet Kastoria.

  Status: Hunting for clarity.

  Moe stepped from the landing pad as her brother took the craft up and back home. She shifted her light pack on her shoulder and strode to where Caleb and Abner stood by the front verandah.

  “Mornin’ Moe,” Caleb said.

  “Mornin’. And to you too Abner.”

  “Yeah,” Abner said.

  Abner Lawrence, Calebs best friend, a born marine, a man not to be trifled with. But not a big talker.

  Nathan stepped onto the porch. Bernie snatched a speck from the shoulder of his shirt.

  “Nathan, dear, you be careful today. For me, all right.”

  Bernie should know better. That sort of open affection only embarrassed him.

  “Yeah, all right.” He let her give him a peck on the cheek then joined the others.

  He forced a tight smile and nodded.

  “What’s that?” Abner asked, staring at Nathan’s weapon of choice.

  “That my old friend,” Caleb said, “is a bow.”

  Abner shook his head.

  “He bagged two hares with it, just last week. Nearly four kilos each.”

  “We’re not hunting bunnies.” He cast another disapproving eye onto Nathan’s weapon.

  Caleb carried one of the projectile weapons, Moe a standard pulsar rifle.

  “All right you two, listen up,” Caleb said. “This is Abner’s show. He has the contract to remove the rogue, so he calls the shots. You do what he says when he says. Got it?”

  “Yep,” said in chorus.

  Caleb nodded to his friend.

  “Let’s go. You two, stay close.”

  Moe looked at Nathan and rolled her eyes. A shrug of the shoulder was his response.

  He’s been in the province for six months. I’ve had four of those to humanize him but he’s still not a big talker. Oh well, baby steps.

  A hard twenty-minute slog brought them to the firebreak between the plantation and the tree line.

  “Our beastie was last seen heading in this direction through the rain forest,” Caleb said. “So
we’ll head on in and look for signs.”

  Abner nodded.

  “Like buffalo shit,” Moe ventured.

  “Scat,” Abner corrected.

  “Pay close attention to Abner,” Caleb said around a growing smile. “He’s an expert when it comes to shit.”

  As the three of them laughed Abner shook his head. Just the trace of a shortly formed smile darted onto his face. They moved under the forest canopy, the relative coolness drying the sweat on bodies. They headed roughly north. After an hour Abner found scat. Moe pulled a face when he dug his hand into it. He sniffed his finger.

  “About two hours old.”

  Out of the corner of her eye Moe caught Nathan tense. He nocked an arrow onto his bowstring, turned, aimed at Abner and fired.

  The arrow passed dangerously close to Abner’s ear before striking the snake in the head. The reptile squirmed, uncoiled from the branch and dropped from the tree onto Abner’s shoulder. He cried out, and jumped about brushing the snake away.

  “Fucking snakes. I hate fucking snakes.” He shuddered.

  Abner was beyond a doubt the toughest individual Moe had ever met. His display of emotion shocked her.

  Everyone stared at him. He composed himself. “I don’t like snakes, that’s all.”

  Caleb stood up from examining the dead reptile. “Take a look.”

  Abner eyed the snake, his lip curling. “Shit. Tree viper.”

  “Well?” Caleb motioned his friend to Nathan.

  “Ah, thanks kid.”

  Nathan held up his bow and raised his eyebrows.

  Moe laughed and this time even Abner joined in.

  How did Nathan spot the snake? More questions for my list.

  “You know my friend,” Caleb said, “in some societies if someone saves your life you have to be their slave.”

  “Funny.” Abner did not seem amused.

  They continued to track the beast for the better part of the day, finding a track here, some scat there. Leaving the forest behind they stepped onto the baked lower plains. And there it was. The Kastorian plains buffalo that had been causing havoc to plantations for weeks. He’d gotten a taste for the sweet green leaves on the vines and would return again.