by D L Frizzell
“That sure changed,” Brady said. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be chasing us around the world right now.”
“Something happened in the last three decades,” Mayford said. “We don’t know what.”
“That is when humans started waging war against each other,” Norio said.
Mayford considered that. “Yes,” he said. “Very possible. Unfortunately, that is not the best way to get noticed.”
“So how do the T’Neth keep finding this place if it’s hidden so well?” I asked.
“Thanks to the exiles’ help,” Mayford shook his head, “no T’Neth has discovered this place since its creation.”
Hathan-Fen held up a hand to stop Mayford. “Hold on. We know the T’Neth can’t keep secrets from one another. How could you smuggle eight of them down here without the rest of their people finding out?”
“We didn’t,” Mayford answered. “The T’Neth here are the original exiles that helped us build the place. They rarely leave, and only do so with an armed escort. Your girl Kate is the only new T’Neth to learn of Dolina in its entire history.”
“So, you’re sayin’…” Redland started.
Mayford nodded. “The exiles are all at least six hundred years old. The Ambassador is well over seven hundred herself.”
“Damn,” Brady mused. “I bet their wrinkles have wrinkles.”
“Not at all, sergeant,” Mayford said, irked by his statement. “You should not ridicule them, and you certainly should not judge them. We have a cordial arrangement with the T’Neth here, and it is due in no small part to their patience. Many generations of my family have lived and died under the mountains of the southern hemisphere. Each of us has had our own talents that are often overshadowed by our flaws. The T’Neth watch us come and go, aware of the impermanence and discord among our kind. Yet, they help us. It shows the kind of temperance that each of us should seek to emulate. And besides,” he huffed, “for T’Neth, they are not old.”
“How long do they live?” Hathan-Fen asked, giving Brady a scornful glare.
“A thousand years would not be uncommon,” Mayford said. “The upper limit is around fifteen hundred, we believe.”
“They sound divine,” Redland quipped. “When do we meet the ol’ geezers?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Mayford told us it would take some time to notify the Ambassador of our arrival. At his insistence, much as it pained Hathan-Fen to do nothing, we agreed to stay and rest for the next day while we awaited the reply. Mayford wrote our names and the reason for our visit on a scroll, which he sealed in a small metal tube. The tube went into a slot in the library wall. When asked what the tube’s purpose was, he explained that the best way to send communications between nodes was by micro-transit, whatever that was. Rather than listen to another long-winded oratory, we declined his explanation of the technology.
We did, however, accept Mayford’s offer to provide us with bathing facilities before getting our first meal. Being sealed inside the teddy bear suits for many hours, followed by the long walk under the mountains, we all smelled pretty ripe. Kate initially turned down the chance at a shower, but urging from Hathan-Fen and Norio changed her mind. We all got our own billet with a shower and a cot, and I can’t describe how good it felt to finally extricate myself from the cotton bodysuit and feel fresh air on my body.
After my shower, I found a fresh white bodysuit waiting for me on a hook outside the door. Thinking it looked like a full-body sock, I slipped it on and put my regular clothes over it. The others had already joined Mayford at the eatery where he had reserved a table for us, and I found them quickly. That’s not hard to do when they’re the only people in town wearing hats. Except for Kate, they were all dressed the same as before, only cleaner. Kate wore only the cloth bodysuit with her hair tucked inside and a blanket draped over her shoulders like a shawl. People stared at her as they walked around our table, but politely said nothing.
The chef made a fantastic steak dinner with mashed potatoes and a mix of vegetables I’d never heard of. This was hands-down the best meal I’d eaten in a year, served with something they called vodka. Even Kate accepted their hospitality and relaxed, though she refused Hathan-Fen’s suggestion to pull her hair out of the bodysuit. As we finished our meal, mopping remnants of gravy off our plates with fresh bread rolls and sipping our clear drinks enthusiastically, Mayford asked Kate if she would like some new clothes to meet the Ambassador in.
Kate thought for a moment, and then said, “Yes, please.”
I was leaning back in my chair when she said this and nearly fell over backwards. I hadn’t heard her thoughts since we jumped off the crop face at the Upright Meadowlands, but now they were loud and clear again. As I scrambled to regain my balance, Redland laughed.
“Can’t hold your liquor, I see,” he bellowed. His slurring speech told me he’d underestimated the vodka, too. He’d had twice as much as anybody else.
“I guess so,” I laughed nervously. “I’d better walk it off.”
Is Alex okay? Kate thought, not speaking the words out loud.
I ignored her. Instead, I complimented the chef and said I needed to clear my head. Ofsalle joined me, making the same excuse. He whispered to me that he might need some help finding his hut, but the last thing I wanted to do was play babysitter.
“Doctor Ofsalle,” Mayford said, standing from the table. “Let’s see if we can find some medicine for those eyes of yours.”
“Oh?” Ofsalle said. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Nonsense,” Mayford said. “If you tell me what you normally use for your allergy, I bet we could find something to treat it in the dispensary.”
“That would be nice,” Ofsalle said, and staggered back to where Mayford was standing. He’d had too much vodka, also.
Mayford gave me a wink, which I returned with a tip of my hat.
I walked the entire perimeter of Dolina. It didn’t take long, maybe an hour. As I veered around the occasional mud puddle or circumvented an animal holding pen, I remembered my time at the university when I used to run around Celestial City atop the wall. Those were the days when everybody left me to my own devices, the days before I became a marshal and pursued every two-slim criminal across the Plainsman Territory. I almost wished I could recapture that misspent youth where I wasn’t necessarily innocent, but neither was I jaded by reality.
As the alcoholic fog in my mind cleared, I wondered why I could hear Kate’s thoughts again. Was it something in the alcohol? I’d been drugged the only other time I heard her, so maybe that turned on the ability somehow. No, that didn’t sound right. Drugs had the opposite effect on her; they made her less telepathic. Norio said T’Neth and humans had similar anatomies, but maybe small differences produced big results. The answer continued to evade me, even as I returned to find everybody back at Mayford’s place.
Ofsalle looked better. Though he was still a bit tipsy, the redness and swelling in his eyes had gone down noticeably. He and Mayford sat in the library, engaged in a jargon-filled conversation about medicine while Hathan-Fen looked on distractedly. Norio was in the kitchen with his gloves off, applying salve to his scarred arms while Kate watched. Brady and Traore stood near the exit, their rifles slung, both with sour looks. I asked them what was wrong.
“The Major wouldn’t let us try the vodka,” Brady said. “She wanted somebody to be coherent in case there was too much fun going on.”
“What he said,” Traore agreed, pointing at Brady.
“Don’t worry, fellas,” I told them. “Next time, I’ll volunteer for guard duty so you can get as drunk as Redland,” I threw my thumb over my shoulder toward the bedroom where throaty snores interrupted the otherwise quiet setting.
“He only got one boot off before he passed out,” Brady lamented. “Damn, that vodka must be good stuff.”
Down the hall in the kitchen, Kate and Norio were conversing. I couldn’t hear Norio, but I could read Kate’s thoughts, and she knew what
he was saying. I could therefore eavesdrop and neither of them would know. Currently she was helping him apply salve to his scars, which didn’t bother her except that she didn’t understand why they wouldn’t heal on their own.
“Alex.” Brady tapped my shoulder. “You gonna get me some vodka for the return trip or not? Hello? You listening, bud?”
“Sure,” I said, turning back to see him and Traore staring at me.
“You’re still a bit under the influence, too,” Traore said. “Better go sleep it off before we have to leave.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m going to need my wits about me.”
Brady pulled a deck of cards out of a cargo pocket and challenged Traore to a hand of poker. I gave them a mock salute and walked toward my hut slowly, measuring each step until I no longer heard Kate’s thoughts.
Chapter Thirty
Brady came into my hut to wake me up a few hours later.
“Gotta go, Marshal,” he said, nudging me with his boot. “Ambassador’s waiting. Do you have a hangover?”
“No,” I said, a bit surprised.
“Redland sure does,” he said, less entertained by the idea than I would expect. “Got eyes redder than that goofy Doctor Ofsalle. I expect he’ll be grumpier than usual, too.”
“Is that possible?” I said.
Brady laughed. “Mayford says to wear your regular clothes. We’re not going out in the cold.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Yeah,” Brady said. “We’re all ecstatic about that.”
He didn’t look relieved. Upset was probably a better word. He left without explaining.
Since I already had my bodysuit and pants on, all I needed was my shirt and boots. I glanced in the mirror as I donned my shirt and duster. My usually sparse stubble had started filling in lately. Since beards reminded me of Redland, I decided to buy a razor at the next opportunity.
Something else bothered me about my reflection. The image in the mirror invoked memories of my father. Not that he missed shaving as often as I did – quite the opposite, he kept himself well groomed – but the eyes looking back at me were too much like his. Grim. Tired.
“What are you doing, Alex?” Kate asked from the doorway. I hadn’t heard her approach, but her thoughts came through loud and clear.
Kate stood there, wrapped in a silken, airy garment that transformed her from a kooky nomad girl to a beautiful woman. Sky blue, with overlapping folds from head to toe, the garment accented her figure while not completely revealing it. Her hair, brushed out for probably the first time in months, cascaded down her chest in lazy brown curls. She came in to what suddenly seemed like a very cramped space in the hut and turned to shut the door. It occurred to me that I had never seen her with her hood down before and was surprised to see that her hair tumbled all the way down her back to her hips. I felt my face flush hot. Getting very uncomfortable, I sat down and pulled my boots from their place under my cot, stealing a look at her out of the corner of my eye as I did so.
In the last six years, I’d never seen Kate undressed, or even seen her without her head covered. Her new outfit had no hood but did have a long shawl that draped over her shoulders. The lacy material caressed her breasts, seeming to waft daintily in some unfelt breeze.
“Are you okay?” Kate asked.
“Um,” I said, certain my face had turned bright red. Unable to articulate anything better, I upended my boots one after the other, shaking out any dirt that might have accumulated. There wasn’t any, of course. I’d shaken them out when I took them off earlier.
She cocked her head. “Do you have an overhang?” Thankfully, she had misinterpreted my pained expression as pain.
“Um,” I said again, clearing my throat. “The word you’re looking for is hangover. No, I don’t think so.”
“Oh.”
“I like your dress,” I said clumsily, and regretted mentioning it as a fresh wave of heat filled my cheeks.
“Thank you, Alex,” she said with the tiniest smile, and spun around once to model it for me. The tips of her shawl rose into the air as she spun and drifted back down when she stopped.
Something about the way her outfit fell over her back struck me as odd. Again, I spoke without thinking my words through. “Are you wearing a fur?”
Kate stopped turned back toward me, her feelings suddenly hurt. “No,” she said. “That is me.”
She self-consciously adjusted the shawl so it covered her back and looked at me with a tear welling up in her eye.
“It’s you?” I said. “I don’t understand.”
Kate hesitated. I could tell she was struggling with a very sensitive admission.
“I really don’t understand,” I said. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
She looked at me for a long moment, swayed by indecision at whether or not to flee my hut. Finally, she took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “You would call it a mane,” she said quietly. When I sat there, wisely keeping my mouth shut now, she sat down next to me. I wasn’t sure what to do, and I think she recognized that. She tugged the shawl over her left shoulder and turned to reveal her bare back to me.
I had already accepted that T’Neth weren’t human, and that Kate happened to be one of them. Because of that, discovering another difference between our species surprised me, but thankfully didn’t shock me. She hesitated once more, only briefly, and then ran the fingers of one hand behind her neck to draw the tumbling mass over her shoulder. I expected to see the smooth curves of her back but saw only more hair. This hair didn’t lay upon her spine but grew from it as thickly as it did on her head, forming a gently-curving hairline that tapered to the small of her back. Her mane, as she called it, was exactly that.
Kate turned her head to watch as I traced every follicle, every hair with my eyes, noticing how they shortened naturally the farther down they went, until they faded to sandy blond wisps at the end.
“It is me,” Kate said simply.
Without knowing what else to say, I spoke the truth. “I’m okay with that,” I said, and touched her hand. She brought both of her hands around to join mine and stared into my eyes.
That makes me happy, she thought to me, her lips parting in a contented smile.
There was a knock at the door. Kate looked away and stood to put the shawl back on. I answered the knock, but my voice came out in a hoarse croak. “Come in.”
Norio opened the door, looking refreshed in a new tunic, greying hair pulled back in a tight braid, and clean gloves covering his arms to the elbows. “Alex,” he said, “Do you feel well enough to travel?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, clearing my throat. “Has everybody recovered from dinner?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Then let’s go,” I said, returning my attention to my boots. “We’ve got an ambassador to meet.”
He peered once at me, then seemed to notice Kate for the first time. “Ah,” he said, and left without another word.
“This isn’t what you…” I started to say, but he was already gone.
When Kate and I arrived at Mayford’s place, Brady and Traore were standing with Norio. They waved us in, none of them saying a word. Inside, a meandering litany of curses drifted from one of the bedrooms.
“Apparently,” Norio said as he followed us in, “not everyone has recovered from dinner.”
Redland emerged from the bedroom, still with only one boot on, and leaned against the door jamb. He rubbed his wooden thumb against his temple and noticed me. “Not a goddamn word,” he warned. Realization slowly dawned on him that his feet didn’t match, so he eased himself back into the bedroom.
Hathan-Fen stood in the kitchen and waved us in. “Alex, Kate, and Norio,” she said, “Mister Mayford says we travel light from this point.”
“The others aren’t going?” I asked.
“The T’Neth are wary of strangers, so we’re keeping the visitor’s list short,” she replied. “The sergeants will stay here as a r
ear guard. Ofsalle has offered his medical expertise to treat some sick patients in Dolina. Mister Mayford is getting him settled.”
“And Redland?”
“If he makes it out of the bedroom he can come along,” Hathan-Fen said.
“How far are we going?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” she replied. “Alex, I have no plan beyond this point. Mayford will hopefully tell us more when he gets back.”
Redland padded quietly into the kitchen, with both boots on this time, and found a fresh pot of coffee on the stove. He had less luck finding a mug. After surveying the long row of cupboards, none of which held anything other than pill bottles, he reached for a dirty mug in the sink. He peered in it with a single, hairy eyeball, scowled as if it hurt to think, and then gave the cup a perfunctory rinse. He filled it with coffee as carefully as one might dole out explosives, and then closed his eye as he sipped.
I stole another look at Kate in her outfit and knew I would continue to be distracted by it unless I addressed the matter. I tried to suggest she wear something else while trying not to reveal my fixation. “Are you going to put on a jacket?” I asked.
“No, the cold doesn’t bother us…”
“She can wear whatever the hell she wants,” Redland growled, leaning heavily on the counter. “Just shut up so we can get out of here.”
Mayford entered and looked around the kitchen. “Well, everybody’s here!” he proclaimed, pausing when Redland raised a quiet fist in his direction. He continued, more subdued this time. “Sorry. Yes, we will leave through an adjoining cave. Here, Marshal.” He handed Redland a pair of small pills, which Redland washed down without asking what they were.
“I’d prefer to take our weapons along,” Hathan-Fen told Mayford.
“You will see that we are quite safe without them,” Mayford told her. “Besides, would you want to give eight T’Neth the wrong impression?”
“Not at all,” she replied.
“Well then, everybody,” Mayford said. “Follow me.”
He led us around the perimeter of Dolina to a tunnel that led deeper into the mountain. Inside we discovered a small train platform between a pair of tracks that matched the ones I’d seen earlier when we first arrived. One of the tracks led to a tunnel ahead of us, with a parallel tunnel intended for foot traffic. The track on the other side of the platform wound its back the way we came into another tunnel that presumably connected to the mine we’d seen earlier. None of the tunnels appeared to have any lights, and the platform itself was only illuminated by a few dim bulbs.
