Europa Journal

by Jack Castle

  Fu-Mar panted more heavily now, and his tongue hung out his open mouth. Clearly, the afternoon heat had taken its toll on the older Awumpai, and he was not up for a fight. Harry had never seen Fu-Mar look so bad before. Heck, the big guy could barely stand.

  “Aren’t you going to help?” he asked Hu-Nan.

  Hu-Nan seemed perturbed by Harry’s interruption. He glanced at Harry in annoyance and resumed watching the fight.

  “Well, if you’re not going to do anything.” Harry whipped open his jacket and removed his .45 pistol from its holster in a cross-draw with his left hand.

  He had taken one step toward Fu-Mar before Hu-Nan’s hand fastened again on his shoulder like a vice and roughly pulled him back. Hu-Nan hadn’t given him so much as a glance.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Harry asked. He looked to Ba-Tu for assistance, but the female Awumpai was leaning against the wall at her back. She sighed heavily, and, to pass time, removed knitting needles from her bag and began working on a blanket that she had started on the trail. The material was the same color as Hu-Nan’s red fur.

  What the hell was wrong with them? Couldn’t they see that their friend was in trouble and in no condition to fight?

  Fu-Mar already looked beaten. He stood there with his arms hanging loosely by his sides, as if he were too weak to raise them or his weapon. He panted heavily as the royal bodyguards slowly advanced on him from all sides. Stricken, Harry believed he was about to watch the old Awumpai get killed by the advancing jackal bodyguards.

  Suddenly, Harry noted that Ba-Tu and Hu-Nan didn’t seem to have any problem adjusting to the warmer climate.

  When the jackals had Fu-Mar surrounded, Chephren brought his weapon to bear and lunged forward. He thrust his scythe toward the Awumpai’s throat.

  For a moment, time seemed to slow. Fu-Mar immediately straightened and darted to the side. He grabbed the shaft of the guard’s weapon, pulled it toward him, and backhanded the guard in the chest. The force of the blow sent the jackal flying backward into the ticket booth.

  Everybody but Asha and the Awumpai were stunned. Hu-Nan chuckled to himself and rubbed his palms together. While he was clearly excited to watch the show, Ba-Tu looked slightly bored and continued with her knitting.

  The jackal guards looked at their fallen comrade, who lay unconscious among the debris of the former ticket booth, and then at Fu-Mar. Enraged, they all charged the Awumpai at once.

  It was the first time Harry had ever seen Fu-Mar truly smile.

  #

  Harry watched the queen duck behind the counter and join the ticket master. As the queen watched Fu-Mar toss her honor guard all over the depot, the ticket clerk removed a messenger bird from its cage and spoke to it. The bird quickly flew out of the depot ceiling.

  As the battle raged on, a formidable-looking dagger slid across the floor and stopped at Ba-Tu’s paws. A jackal guard went to retrieve it but froze when he realized its close proximity to Ba-Tu.

  Everyone waited silently to see what the female Awumpai would do with the discarded blade. When she realized that she was the center of attention, she sighed once more, put down her knitting, and picked up the weapon.

  The fear in the royal bodyguard’s face turned to confusion when Ba-Tu flipped the knife expertly into the air, caught it blade first, and offered the weapon back to him. Thinking it a trick, the guard refused to reclaim his weapon.

  Ba-Tu offered it a second time, only this time she stretched her hand out farther.

  Harry saw that Fu-Mar didn’t seem bothered by Ba-Tu’s action in the least and that Hu-Nan smiled with delight.

  “Don’t worry,” the small princess said from behind the protection of Hu-Nan’s thick hide. “She won’t hurt you. You should probably take it.”

  After a few tentative reaches, the guard snatched the weapon out of Ba-Tu’s clawed hand and darted backward to rejoin the fight. The knife didn’t help him much, for Fu-Mar easily disarmed him a second time and threw him into one of his advancing comrades.

  Just then, the result of the Queen’s messenger bird arrived. The sheriff and his deputy burst through the main entrance. Unfortunately, the hybrid sheriff made the mistake of approaching the princess with his rifle. “You there, halt!” he told her in guttural Awumpai.

  Hu-Nan’s lion-like roar nearly knocked the sheriff off his feet, so Harry could hardly blame the sheriff for aiming and firing at the oversized Awumpai.

  In the blink of an eye, Hu-Nan turned and hugged the princess to shield her with his back. The buckshot struck the thick armor on his back, denting it, and, in a few places, even punching through.

  Once Hu-Nan was satisfied that the princess was unharmed, he stomped toward the sheriff. A retreating royal jackal guard got in Hu-Nan’s way and was swatted away effortlessly.

  The sheriff took another round from his quivering deputy and attempted to reload but, seeing that the enormous Awumpai was almost upon him, turned on his heel and attempted to flee. Before he could do so, Hu-Nan grabbed him by his collar and the waistband of his pants. The sheriff’s body flew through the air and smashed all the way through the wall by the window. His body left an outline in the wall behind him.

  When Hu-Nan turned toward the timid deputy and roared, the deputy retreated out the door through which he had come.

  Meanwhile, still hidden behind the ticket booth, the queen ushered up two of her guards and pointed at Asha who was now standing alone, “Go grab her. Grab the little one,” she ordered the two guards before ducking again behind the clerk’s desk.

  Harry tensed, reaching for his gun again, but the princess was not alone; Hu-Nan was only the second line of defense. When the two honor guards were nearly upon the princess, they discovered the third: Ba-Tu.

  Ba-Tu’s slender body moved between the two jackals in graceful, fluid motions. She struck them multiple times with her knitting needles before they even knew she was there. Their dead bodies, punctured with dozens of holes, hit the floor within moments of their fatal attempt to grab the princess. When a third jackal tried to attack Ba-Tu from behind, Hu-Nan appeared and tore the jackal’s body in two.

  Harry realized that anyone who approached the princess with the intention of harming her received the death penalty. The sentence was swift and sure. The royal bodyguards fighting Fu-Mar were still alive only because they posed no threat to the princess. In fact, during Fu-Mar’s fight with the guards, he never drew his blade. As Harry watched, the last royal bodyguard dropped at Fu-Mar’s feet, dazed but alive.

  Fu-Mar stepped over the stunned guard and ripped the ticket counter from the floor. He threw it aside to reveal the queen responsible for it all. Queen Apsu backed against the wall and shrank into the floor.

  Fu-Mar slowly withdrew his sword and held his blade to the queen’s throat.

  Asha picked her way through the debris and moved alongside Fu-Mar. She whispered something up to Fu-Mar’s ear and gently moved his sword away.

  Asha then knelt down beside the queen and said, “There there, old mother. Do not fear. Let me help you to your feet.” She helped the older woman to stand, and two badly beaten royal bodyguards assisted.

  Asha turned to the ticket clerk and handed him a sack of coin. “Here. This should compensate you for any damages my protectors may have caused. My apologies, noble ticket master. With your permission, please allow Queen Apsu to reside in my accommodations.”

  The clerk, happy that Princess Asha was speaking to him, replied, “Thank you, Dan-Sai Asha.” Looking inside the bag, he added, “You are most generous, but I hardly think someone such as you should give up your stateroom for the likes of her.”

  “Please, grant me this, Ticket Master, and I will be forever in your debt.”

  The clerk blushed. “As you wish, Dan-Sai.”

  Hearing this, Queen Apsu dusted off her clothes and resumed her arrogant stature. She threw
her scarf over one shoulder and, limping on one broken sandal, boarded the ore ship ahead of Asha’s group.

  Harry watched the way the clerk interacted with Asha and realized that the hybrid not only recognized her but also loved her, as Harry suspected most of the people of this world did. It was easy to see why; she was generous and noble beyond anything Harry had ever known.

  Her kindness made him think of his own wife. Although his memory still had more holes in it than a block of Swiss cheese, one thing he remembered was that she was kind. He felt his heart physically ache for her. He had to get home to his family. Whatever the cost, however impossible, he would never stop trying.

  Their tokens cashed, Asha, Harry, and the Awumpai boarded the ore ship that would take them to Joppa-Cal, the city of the gods and, quite possibly, all the way home.

  Chapter 17

  The Ore Ship

  As twilight in the darkening hemisphere turned to night, the light from three incandescent moons lit the magnificent ore ship’s way while it sailed on a sea of clouds.

  Standing in the bow of the ship, Harry watched Asha and her Awumpai prepare for slumber. He noticed that the other passengers kept their distance from the woolly samurai.

  Harry was impressed that Asha had given up her stateroom to the snobby queen, but it bothered him that Asha would have to sleep on the frigid deck with the commoners, while the arrogant queen slept in the warm stateroom. However, watching Asha gaze at the starry sky, he realized that she probably preferred it this way.

  The captain of the ship had given Asha several thick animal-skin blankets. She had gratefully accepted these and then quickly given them away to other passengers who shivered in the chilly winds.

  Fu-Mar stood guard while Ba-Tu and Hu-Nan bedded down for sleep. Hu-Nan patted down his chest fur, as he did each night, so the princess could curl up there and go to sleep.

  Harry took his own bedroll from his rucksack and lay down upon it. He was surprised when Asha chose to lay her head on his chest instead of Hu-Nan’s. The big Awumpai was dumbstruck at her decision. When he realized that the Dan-Sai was not going to come over to him, he grumbled loudly enough for everyone on the boat to hear and roughly turned his back to Asha and Harry. Harry knew that he’d have to stay out of the big Awumpai’s way in the morning.

  The princess snuggled up to Harry. Her body was as light as a feather.

  Just when he thought her asleep, she said, “Harry?”

  “Yes, Dan-Sai.”

  “I’m afraid.”

  “Afraid of what, Asha?” Harry asked, using the same tone that he would speak to his own child, but Asha was already fast asleep.

  Ba-Tu soon came over and tucked them in with the blanket she had made. It was as soft as it was warm.

  “What is she afraid of?” Harry asked in hushed tones.

  Ba-Tu briefly thought this over. “Harry,” she said, “what do you think ‘Dan-Sai’ really means?”

  He shrugged. “I thought it meant ‘princess’. Why?”

  “It does not mean ‘princess’.”

  “What does it mean, then?”

  Again Ba-Tu hesitated, unsure of her place. Of all the Awumpai, she was the most concerned about propriety.

  “It means ‘offering’,” she said finally and walked away.

  Harry grimaced and looked down at the little girl who slept on his chest. Did Ba-Tu mean Asha was being sent off to marry one of the gods? Maybe arranged marriages were the norm for this world. Of one thing he was certain, no harm would come to her, not as long as he was alive.

  Looking up at the night sky, he drifted off to sleep and dreamed of home.

  #

  The next morning Captain Reed awakened to daylight on the deck of the ore ship and found himself wondering which reality was the dream world.

  He shielded his eyes from the glaring sunlight overhead; it had to be at least noon.

  “Bad dreams?” Ba-Tu asked. She sat on the wooden deck nearby.

  “How do you know that I was dreaming?”

  “You talk in your sleep.”

  “I dreamt about my family,” Harry said. “I’ve got to get back to them somehow.”

  “Perhaps you could ask the gods when you get to Joppa-Cal,” Ba-Tu suggested.

  “Harry!” said the princess cheerfully. She no longer slept on his chest but was leaning over the starboard railing. “Come see! Quick, or you’ll miss it!”

  He joined her at the railing and looked over the side just in time to see the ship clear the highest and longest wall he had ever seen in his life. The extraordinariness of the wall was matched only by the magnificence of the city that lay inside it. Numerous castles floated over the city, but nothing compared to the Olympian palace that hovered above it all.

  They had arrived at Joppa-Cal, unquestionably the city of the gods.

  Chapter 18

  The Prophet

  Mac shuffled awkwardly down the carpeted hallway in leg-irons and manacles. Per the Tripod’s instructions, she kept her gaze on the floor. She led her crew members, who were all shackled behind her just like an old chain gang in the South, into the throne room.

  The throne room had once been lavish, but its faded carpets, slightly tattered curtains, and torn upholstery suggested that it had long since seen its prime. It was clean, however. Mook servants milled about performing various household chores, from dusting to scrubbing floors.

  Much to Brett’s and Stein’s objections, Mac had thought it best to surrender their weapons without a fight. Given their present condition, it might not have been the wisest of choices, as both commandos made a point of reminding her at every opportunity. They had discovered that any deviation from the Tripod’s orders resulted in a swift kick. The Tripods had paraded the humans through the city’s cobblestone streets to the castle in the city center, but for the most part, Mac and her crew were unharmed.

  “Aye-yock,” the lead Tripod’s hologram said. The creature halted in front of a tattered red carpet that lay over wide semi-circular stairs that led up to an even wider dais.

  Risking a blow to the head from the guard’s hooves, Mac looked up to see that they had stopped in front of a throne. A hunched-over, humanoid figure in black robes stood next to it with his or her back to the group. The figure read from a scroll to a hybrid servant, who nodded at his every word.

  The lead Tripod’s hologram uttered something to effect of “ya-touche,” and the robed humanoid turned to face them. To Mac’s surprise, the humanoid was actually a fully human man, who appeared to be in his late sixties or early seventies. He had a large nose, thick eyebrows, and a bushy, graying beard. For a moment, the man stood there and blinked at them in surprise.

  “Ba-toi, dial kay?” he asked. He spoke a language that was similar to the Tripod’s. Letting out a short laugh, he said something in a different language. It sounded like a question and he was directing it at them.

  Leo’s head popped up. “Hey, that sounded Greek.”

  A Tripod clip-clopped toward Leo and raised his spear. Leo quickly lowered his head.

  The robed human held up a hand to stop the guard.

  “You speak Greek, Leo?” Tae asked under his breath. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

  “No, but I know enough of it to know that he just asked who we are.”

  The robed man walked over to Leo.

  “Say something, Leo,” Mac said. She leaned out of the line-up to make herself heard and then quickly stepped back in line when the nearest of the Tripods struck its front hoof on the palace floor.

  “I told you. I don’t speak Greek.”

  “You speak Ang-lish,” the robed stranger said, to everyone’s surprise. “You spake Eng-Lash,” he said again.

  Mac answered for her stupefied lieutenant. “Yes, we’re with United Coalition of Planets. Our ship crash-landed on your plane
t after traveling through a wormhole.”

  “Too fast, too fast,” the robed man said, shaking his hands in the air. “First, I am Enoch, Prophet of the Gods. Welcome to Joppa-Cal!” He widened his arms in a gesture of welcome.

  They looked at one another in surprise, except Leo, who asked, “I don’t mean to sound rude, but do you think we could dispense with the irons?”

  When Enoch gave him a questioning look, Leo shook his manacles for emphasis.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” He shouted commands at the Mook servants, who quickly scrambled to unlock the heavy bonds. “First, you must be hungry. You will be fed. And later, later I would hear of your tale.”

  Mac dropped the heavy chains to the floor, and they landed with a loud CLUNK. She rubbed her wrists and watched the Mooks release Brett and Stein from their bonds.

  Tae and Leo stepped next to Mac. “You don’t think he could be the same Enoch from the Bible do you?” Tae asked.

  “No,” Mac said in disbelief.

  “Wait a minute. What are you talking about?” Leo asked.

  “Didn’t you ever go to Sunday school?” Tae asked him.

  Leo shook his head and then shot back, “Oh, and I suppose you did?”

  “As a matter of fact I did,” said Tae. Then in a softer tone he turned to Mac and explained, “Before I was accepted to M.I.T. my mom wanted me to be a priest.”

  “Your point, Tae,” Mac said exasperated.

  “Genesis 5.24: ‘Enoch walked with God; then he was no more, because God took him away.’ The book of Enoch in the Jewish Torah is even more specific: ‘And so it came to pass that Enoch rose up to heaven in a storm, on fiery steeds, in a fiery chariot.’”

  “Why would it be the same guy? How could he still be alive?” Leo asked.

  Before Mac could answer, Tae pressed his argument. “Why not? According to the Bible, Enoch was three hundred and ninety-five years old when he rose up in a fiery chariot, and his son, Methuselah, carried on for another nine hundred years after he left.”

  “I don’t know,” Leo said, “that’s a pretty big stretch. What do you think, Mac?”