Orphans of Middle Mars: Book One of the Chronicles of Middle Mars

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Orphans of Middle Mars: Book One of the Chronicles of Middle Mars Page 16

by CJ East


  “This is the most beautiful table I have ever seen,” Kinch proclaimed trailing his fingers across the smoothly polished surface. He pulled the short bench from the head of the table and sat down tilting his head slightly to examine the currents of walnut and mahogany flowing through its length.

  “Thank you. The table was commissioned many ages ago by our greatest leader upon the death of a tree sacred to our people. His ceremonial place was there where you now sit.”

  Kinch flashed an apologetic expression to Amica and half-stood, “I’m sorry, I meant no offense.”

  Amica smiled and motioned with her palm for him to sit, “That was a different time. This table has more mundane, practical uses today. I’m sure he would be honored to have a believer from another planet in his seat of honor.” She joined him at the corner by sliding onto the bench with a graceful motion.

  He lowered himself down watching her delicate hands landing softly on the smooth table. They were perfectly human, everything about her was human except for slight details. The most dramatic was her crimson skin. Much darker than the children’s pink skin tone, the strange beautiful color of a dark rose. Her face was soft featured and stunningly exotic.

  “A believer? Are we, the same?”

  “Perhaps not on the outside, but the outside is merely a wrapper for the soul. Your spirit is much like the Coccino.”

  “That is your people, the Coccino?”

  “Yes, the name means the scarlet people. And your people are pale on the outside?”

  “The Irish? Yes, almost translucent. But I’m darker because I am mixed blood, my mother was a - well, she was red skinned.”

  Amica inspected his exposed arm, studying his face and hair. She started to speak, then hesitated. Kinch sensed she was being polite, so he went on, “Her race was more brown than red, at least not as deep red as the Coccino,” he answered her unasked question.

  “And your blue eyes and black hair? Are they from your mother?” She asked?

  Kinch paused and thought how best to explain Mendelian genetics, when Amica interrupted, “I do not mean to embarrass you or cause you pain. Your mixed race is of great interest.”

  “No worries, where I come from, being a pure race is unusual. Almost everyone has some white, brown, yellow, red or black somewhere in their line.”

  Amica’s curious expression turned to pleasant amazement, “How wonderful! Your planet has learned to live in peace with all tribes.”

  Kinch laughed, “Ironic you would say that. The entire Earth is at war with itself. Even the Colony on the surface is at war - at least was until I was pushed out.”

  The eldest girl, Pia, walked around the table and set a large, tall bowl before Kinch. Dulcia and Macarius both carried Amica’s bowl in their tiny, uneasy hands. Kinch wanted to reach over the table to save the bowl from spilling on Amica.

  She raised her hands in joy and said, “Look how the wonderful helpers are struggling to outperform the other. You are both so very kind. Now please sit and honor our guest as he tells us stories of his world.” She bent down to touch foreheads with Dulci.

  Amica took the bowl in two hands like a short cup and said, “Like this,” raising the bowl to her mouth, tipping the bowl upwards.

  Kinch cupped his bowl between his hands and imitated Amica to the tiny clapping of Dulci and Macarius. Kinch smiled and turned to Amica preoccupied by her drinking bowl. She lifted the bowl and asked, “Then this is the manner which you came to us, you made war against your people and were pushed out?” She raised the bowl to her lips and sipped. She concentrated on her hands replacing the bowl, stared a moment longer and turned to meet Kinch’s smoldering gaze.

  Shrewd, he thought, blocking access to his private dialog. She is alone and protecting these children, so she must be careful.

  Kinch “They caused the accident on the surface which almost killed me. They executed the strongest two defenders of the Colony. They won and now the others live in fear because I was not strong enough to defend them.”

  “I am truly sorry for your loss. May peace be upon them,” she said and lowered her head.

  Kinch sensed his anger swelling, an anger he wanted to leave on the surface. He switch the topic. “You mentioned you are a healer. Did you mend my hands and arm?”

  “No, Kinch, I did not. There were no wounds when we found you. Only dried blood on your arm and face. I cured your sickness with a tonic.”

  He rubbed his sore palm with a slow, circling thumb, “When I passed through the barrier to enter your world, fire surged through my body for an instant. It was like a quick purification, a burning away.”

  Amica knitted her brow. Kinch thought perhaps she did not understand his meaning, so tried again, “Passing through the door must have sterilized and healed my wounds. It must have killed my microbial cells, making me sick.”

  Amica continued to stare, “What you have shared is more interesting than you can understand at this time, Kinch.” She turned to her curious children with an admonishing raised brow, as if suggesting they should keep silent.

  She turned back to Kinch. “What are your plans now? I pray you will stay with us for some time?”

  He looked into the deep glow of the table. He thought about his friends at the Colony far beyond his reach. They were mourning his death now. A tightening formed around his throat, “I have no plans. The oxygen canisters can’t be pressurized and the door fried the technology in my suit. There is no welcome for me at the Colony even if I were able to return.”

  Dulcia’s tiny mind voice exclaimed, “Let’s keep him! Can we keep him Amica?”

  Macarius stood to his feet and joined Dulcia, “Yes! Yes! Just like you kept us, Amica. We didn’t have anyone until you made us part of the family. He is a half-breed like us. Can he stay?”

  Kinch felt his shoulders cringe at the sting of the young boy’s characterization. Amica raised her palms toward the children to signal their silence. She held a stern, but loving presence, “Such outbursts are inappropriate before our guest. What must Kinch think of Coccino manners?” The children hung their head at the admonishment.

  Pia spoke in a soft tone, “Please forgive us, Master Kinch. We forgot ourselves and were too familiar.”

  Kinch surveyed the remorseful children, raised in the way of duty and respect. He understood better than they could know. “An Earth man once said, ‘Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do, you apologize for the truth.’ You have honored me with your hospitality when I am completely alone. I will stay with you if you would have me.”

  A smile formed on sweet Pia’s face as the children beamed in hushed gasps of anticipation. She turned from Kinch to the children, “There is always room for just one more,” she said with the understanding of an inside joke.

  Footsteps warned the tall boy who had left disgruntled was returning with a slow, self-conscious stride. He was about the same age as Kinch. He must have sensed Kinch inspecting him, because he flashed a malicious glare.

  Kinch noticed Amica’s composure change to uneasiness. He rose from the table and said, “Amica, you sent someone named Argus to help me last night when I was sick. Is this the young man?”

  The three seated children covered their mouths trying to hold back the explosion of laughter. Amica tilted a scornful expression quieting them at once. Kinch understood his attempt at a compliment was now a huge blunder.

  The boy squared at Kinch, inspecting the alien in his home. “Argus is our immanus,” he answered. His eyes narrowed as if he was looking at a repulsive creature, “What are you and what do you want with us?”

  A warning from the boy’s anger began pressing on his mind. Amica raised from her seat as the tension in the room thickened. She looked worried.

  Kinch picked up on the cues, “An immanus? That thing was terrifying. I think I ruined a perfectly good space suit when that big dog jumped out at me. He belongs to you? Can you show him to me?”

  The boy studied Kinch, his distrustful eyes da
rting, “Well, yes. He is outside.”

  “Outside this house?” Kinch wore a worried expression and looked towards the far door. “Does he obey you?”

  At this comment the boy relaxed his shoulders and tilted his head back, “Of course. Everyone is afraid of him at first because his kind eats our kind in the Wilds, but don’t worry. I’ve trained him. He protects our livestock and land. He won’t do anything if you are with me.”

  Amica turned a sly look of approval to Kinch. He stepped past her and winked. Walked to the now confident boy, “I’d like to see him, if you’re sure it’s safe.”

  The boy looked hard at Kinch, taking measure of him. Some of the hardness cracked free and a slight smile overcame the edges of his scowl. His eyes flickered to Amica, who was whispering something to the children.

  He turned back to Kinch. “Of course Outlander, Amica would be angry with me if Argus ate your inside parts.” He turned and walked out the door. Kinch followed closely, but shot a quick glance over his shoulder to catch the wounded expression on Amica’s face.

  Release

  Kinch stepped from the house onto the worn marble stairs of the terrace. The building was designed like an ancient Roman estate, flavored with the cracks and wear of time. The small courtyard was colored with a bright green vegetation and bordered by a high stone wall.

  He studied the boy as he walked with purpose through the courtyard. His stride was more assured, more relaxed and determined. The boy had long black hair tied in a thick braid. His skin was not Amica’s crimson tone. His color was a lighter salmon, the same as the other children Macarius had labeled as half-breeds. The boy’s back was broad, his arms strong with the exaggerated muscle of a laborer.

  They followed a dirt path to the high wooden gate without any communication. Kinch skimmed the seven-foot wall of skillfully fitted stone with his eyes to a sad little corner of the courtyard. A crumbling wall of stacked, broken rocks leaned inward with crude wooden planks for a roof. Old tree limbs supported the weight of the roof with varying measures of success. It appeared to be the home of something.

  Kinch didn’t have any reason to distrust the boy leading him, though Amica treated him with a loving fear. There was no reason to trust the boy either. He had given a veiled warning about the immanus, “their kind eat our kind,” he had said.

  Kinch felt a psychic link being made by the boy. The background emotion of the boy reminded Kinch of his own turmoil and anger. The boy stopped in front of the opening of the crumbling structure, “This is where Argus sleeps during the day. At night we protects the fields and orchards keeping out the Wilds.”

  “Wilds?” asked Kinch examining the rotting beam supporting the ceiling.

  “Creatures from the Wilds. Our land is inside the walled stronghold of Arx, the Wilds is everything outside our walls. Argus hunts and eats the animals that cross into our farmland of Arx,” he said disappearing into the mouth of the building.

  “I’ll just chill here,” Kinch said taking a step back. He scanned for a weapon and landed on a long, smooth whittled pole. A few nonchalant side steps and he was within arm’s length. Rustling sounds came from the back of the building. A deep growl emerged from the shadows. A huge gray hairless wolf, blinked into the light then focused on Kinch with a snarl.

  Argus towered above Kinch, thick and muscular. The creature reminded him in size of a quarter horse with gray thick skin, plated like a rhinoceros. The animal’s bearing was completely canine - confident, lithe and relaxed.

  Kinch backed against the courtyard wall need the whittled pole, searching for the boy. The animal sniffed at Kinch, then turned back at the boy with disinterest. He yawned exposing two rows of canine teeth, surveyed the empty courtyard and dropped his muscular frame down to resume his sleep. Kinch stood dumbfounded at the immanus.

  The boy stepped out of the shadows of the hut, “You didn’t answer my question in the house, White Face. What are you and what do you want with my family?”

  Kinch ran through different outcomes to the ambush, then thought best to go with the truth. He could sense the boy’s mistrust through the bridge. The boy, being much better at this form of communication, might be able to sense truthfulness.

  “I came to your planet on a space ship from a different planet - Earth specifically.”

  The boy passed the great sleeping wolf into Kinch’s personal space. The boy leaned forward, his chin almost touching Kinch’s forehead. Their eyes locked in an unblinking battle of wills.

  The boy grabbed Kinch by the jumpsuit lapel and pushed him into the wall. Kinch allowed the trespass to occur, noting opportunities to strike the boy’s unprotected midsection, knees and head in the clumsy execution. The boy was no warrior.

  Kinch flashed to Argus as the struggle caused the animal to flip on his haunches with the flexibility of a cat. His savage eyes widened as he snarled and stalked forward. Argus hovered a few feet above the boy’s shoulders.

  “That’s a lie, White Face” crashed a torrent of anger from the boy’s mind. “We are responsible for protecting this family. Now try again.”

  “Easy tiger, you’ve made your point. Back off and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

  Kinch didn’t take his eyes off Argus. The animal gave a menacing growl, ready to pounce.

  The boy’s serious expression betrayed no fear as he pulled Kinch in close. Kinch did not consider him a threat. The worst case calculation was the boy’s left arm broken and his body thrown into the wolf, if Argus attacked. This would allow him time to reach the whittled pole and the top of the wall.

  He threw Kinch back against the wall again and took a step backwards until Argus was above his shoulder. Reaching up with a comforting hand he whispered, “Sederis,” and Argus whimpered in disappointment, sitting on his hind legs scrutinizing Kinch.

  Kinch continued with plan A. “I got into some trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?” the boy interrogated.

  “I killed a couple of jerks on the surface and now I’m on the run. They can’t find me here, I came through the blue door.”

  “How did you kill them?” the boy’s eyes widened.

  “How? Uh, I mean, it happened pretty fast. I didn’t mean to, there wasn’t a plan. I improvised.” Kinch explained.

  “You meant to kill them then? Their intentions were not noble?”

  Kinch then understood. The boy wanted to be a warrior, he wanted to be a protector. “No, those men had no honor. I tried to do the right thing and failed, that is all that matters. Now I’m a stranger in this strange land.”

  He watched the boy’s face soften. “Thanks, by the way, for sending Argus to help me. I was too sick to fight off those spinning crabs and centipedes.”

  The boy smiled, “Yes, they are clumsy and annoying.” He halted with a serious stare, “I am called Lucius. You are a stranger no more.”

  A stunned look twisted Kinch’s face, “Your name. Does Lucius mean ‘bringer of light’?”

  Lucius laughed, “Yes, did Amica tell you that?”

  “No. It is a familiar name. A moment ago you spoke to Argus. You told him, ‘Sederis’. Is that a command to sit?”

  “Yes and that is what he did,” his mind voice had an edge of suspicion.

  “It is impossible, but I have been taught these words. On Earth we have a dead language from thousands of years ago.”

  “No, you are wrong. The mind voice interprets words to familiar thoughts. It does not do as you say and interpret body voice. You are a foreigner and cannot speak our body voice - this is why Amica has taught you to use your mind voice.”

  “I am not sure. The names and words are familiar.”

  Lucius let fly a loud scoff, “Then use your body voice. Your mind voice is so timid and weak it strains me to understand!”

  Kinch almost forgot how to use his body voice. He cleared his throat, squinted at Lucius and started to ramble in classical Latin, “Lucius believes I speak like a little girl. Perchance he can u
nderstand me better with the spoken word of a long-dead tongue.”

  Lucius opened his mouth in stunned amazement. A convulsive snort shook his body as he began laughing so hard he bent over and grabbed his knees. He leaned over towards Argus and grabbed the wolf’s face, “Do you hear the White Boy speak, Argus? A body voice stronger than a little girl and much more sophisticated and formal!”

  Kinch was pleased Lucius could understand him, but confused, “Can the wolf speak?”

  Lucius stopped short in mid-laugh and stared as if centipedes were coming out of Kinch’s ears. He searched Kinch’s face and found nothing but a sincere question, then exploded in laughter throwing his arms over his head falling backwards. Argus scrambled to his feet. He sniffed Lucius at this strange behavior.

  Kinch rolled his eyes and glanced to the house to see Amica cover her mouth and turn to the doorway. He crossed his arms and watched the boy rocking on his back holding his stomach.

  Exasperated, Kinch spoke in Latin, “Enough. Enough already! Of course the seven-foot Martian wolf isn’t telepathic, that would be beyond reason.”

  Lucius only rocked harder on his back and howled with laughter. Kinch moved over him and put out his arm to help him up.

  Lucius locked his grip around Kinch’s forearm and pulled himself up with a jolt, exhaling a long, loud breath and wiping his eyes. He spoke in a shaky voice of adolescence, “You have much to learn. Come, I will show you the market so you can talk to all the animals you meet.”

  Lucius bent over again at the humor of his own joke. Kinch glared down, his arms folded and head held high with wounded pride.

  A smile formed on his hardened face and he let slip a stifled chuckle, then a true laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire situation. He laughed at Lucius, and at Lucius laughing at him. He even laughed at a very confused nonverbal monster wolf. It was a good laugh - the most soul replenishing laugh he could remember.

 

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