Without Rhythm (The Lament)

by P. S. Power

  "Don't worry girl. We'll get with the High Council member for your craft and get you reinstated. That kind of waste... seven years of education, is too important to let go over things as petty as nepotism. In the meantime, Clark, Mara and Apprentice Pran need to get some rest. The rest of us can handle this for now. Eight hours only. The Silence is due in, but until we have everyone on the ground we need to stay as alert as possible."

  Sleep was to be accomplished in a rough fashion, curled up on a pile of branches and straw in a hay barn. The Lament hadn't landed yet and The Conscript, the airship the others had been on, was back in the sky as well. The people from the town were wandering around, trying to get some chores done, but they were all pretty quiet. At one point a girl that looked to be about ten came in to the barn, bringing them a bucket of water, some cups and a loaf of bread, but other than that they were all left alone.

  For the second time in a little over a day she slept when realistically she didn't expect to. There was a little screaming, from the bad dreams, but no one said much about it when she got up, drank her fill of water and then tore off a chunk of bread from the half stale loaf. Mara and Clark chewed some of it slowly as well, but didn't have any other food with them. Either they'd eaten theirs or, more likely, their pouches hadn't had room for it. She divvied up the fruit she had and passed it out without comment. It got them both to smile and perk up a little.

  "I'm going to be sad when you go back to being Bard Pran you know." Mara took a bite of dried pear and sighed.

  "For one thing I'm going to have to do my own laundry. I doubt it will take much longer either, once Saran uses her contacts to see to your disposition. She's been around so long she could have a dog named High Councilor of Bards and no one would question it. I'm not really sure that's a joke either. They didn't even tell us that she was on The Conscript..."

  After a bite of food and some careful chewing Clark nodded, his face covered in nearly two days of beard growth, which gave him a slightly scruffy and ill kempt appearance. Like a thief or vagabond. A huge and dangerous one.

  "I doubt it's a coincidence. If we stumbled onto this much tech activity, it has to have been a major problem for some time. Normally all we see is someone getting a little too ambitious and making more lights than we like to see in too short a time. This seems to be indicative of manufacturing." Before Pran could ask he explained that meant making a lot of one kind of thing.

  "The cloth that Roy bought? That was machine loomed. Fine quality too."

  After that they moved out to the small stream on the side of town near the grain mill and stripped to the waist to wash up. Pran felt kind of self-conscious about it, but the cold stole that idea from her, even as two of the other Guardians walked up, having been patrolling.

  Following along with the others she scraped the water off of her body with her hands several times and stood, shivering a little as she finished air drying. The older woman, Saran, just nodded to them, but the younger boy, who had to be an apprentice too, watched her and Mara a little too closely. Staring at their breasts.

  Pran growled at him, waving at the tree line.

  "Hey! Attention to the surroundings! Don't get distracted by the pretty girls." She meant it as a joke, since what man his age wasn't going to look at the half naked girls if he could, but Clark nodded and Saran nudged the boy a bit with an understanding smile.

  "Real point Tuvin. This isn't a game or exercise."

  There was no rebuke, but apparently that wasn't needed, since the attention coming from that direction suddenly shut off altogether. Mara didn't move to put her shirt on, even though it was clear she was as chilled as Pran was. Clark seemed fine and suggested that he could take over the watch sector that the other two were on.

  "Good and welcome. I'm not used to field work anymore. Tuvin and Guardian Mara here can take the next section over?"

  Mara nodded.

  "Certainly. Tuvin, are you up to it?"

  The boy tilted his head and turned to glance at her, but didn't let his eyes wander for too long.

  "I'm a little tired and bored, but I think I can handle it. Just hit me in the back of the head if I stray too much." He glanced at her breasts then, which got a laugh.

  The idea of these people making sex jokes was funny all on its own, being unexpected as it was.

  The older woman looked at them all and then focused on Pran.

  "You're with me then, Pran. We're going to get the airships down and contact some people using the radio... Do you know what that is?" She said it sharply, looking at Clark, who nodded.

  "The talking device on the bridge?"

  "Oh, sure, I saw that the other day." Pran didn't want to seem like a waste of space, but it wasn't as if she knew how the thing worked. Radio. It wasn't something she'd learned to make in school either.

  Old or not the woman had her run out to the landing field, moving in the same atypical fashion that all the Guardians did. Pran tried to keep up and do it herself, knowing it wasn't the same thing at all. Saran didn't mock her over it. In fact she looked... intrigued.

  "Not bad at all. The brain has to rewire before a person can really understand how to do it, and that takes years, but you seem to be making a real effort. Both Clark and Mara put in a word for you already. Clark actually suggested that we put you in schooling, if the Bards won't have you back. Mara assures me that they will. It seems that you were at the head of your year?"

  Pran nodded, out of breath and not able to talk and run very well at the same time, much less stay properly alert.

  "Yes ma'am. I mean, there were other good people too, but I was told I was in the running." It was a gasp, but the older woman kept talking as they got to the center of the field and raised both her hands straight up over her head.

  "Do this please, it signals the ships to come in for landing. Technically it's a call for help, but it will work well enough. It's supposed to look like an 'H" from the air."

  She did it, trying to rest while she did, her hands going slightly cool from the lack of blood before the other woman spoke again, looking around them hard. Like Pran was supposed to be doing.

  "We can call your issue in today, if anyone will land." Then they took turns standing like that, alternating so that one could stand guard while the other posed for the ships. A scant hour and a half latter one of the white cylindrical things started to come at them, slowly. Pran couldn't tell them apart, but Saran had more experience and pointed out the smudge on the front of the nose as the thing slowly dove toward them.

  "The Conscript. We can put our hands down now. They're coming. Let's move to the trees, so they don't accidentally hit us. The Captain is great, but he has a new Shipman's Apprentice and likes to let him practice landings. Last month he ran into a tree. He has gotten better, I just don't want to risk it."

  They ran to the side anyway, moving with a normal running pattern, since it was faster by far. They didn't have to worry, since the landing was just about perfect. If it wasn't the Captain or First Mate doing it, then that new apprentice had really improved a lot.

  The tie lines got put out this time, the men and women from the ship charging out fast and hard, which meant they could enter through the open hatch while they worked. It was interesting to see what they did, just running ropes through the heavy posts buried in the ground, but they didn't have a lot of time to watch, since Saran tugged her arm a little to get her moving.

  The Captain was on his bridge, with two other people at the controls, but he didn't stand when they entered, his back to them, working something carefully. It was just a lever, but he moved it with total focus and no one spoke while he did it. After about ten minutes of this he hit a second lever and twisted a knob. It seemed to lock the first lever in place. They were metal, brass it looked like, but had well worn patterns on them where someone regularly touched them.

  Then Saran was at the controls of the talking box, the radio, without even asking permission.

  "This is High Councilor
Saran. Calling main. Repeat, High Councilor Saran. Come in..." She had to say it several times, but finally a voice came on, a young sounding woman.

  "Saran? What's the situation there?"

  "About as bad as we feared. Someone seems to be starting a military force using old technology. We have the local situation under control for the moment, but we need an increased presence."

  That, it seemed, was code for sending in an army of Guardians, pulling them from almost everywhere they could manage. The woman on the device went silent for a moment, then after a small clicking sound spoke firmly.

  "I put the call out. On your current location?"

  "Yes."

  "Anything else needed for the moment?"

  Saran smiled and looked at Pran then, shrugging a little as the Captain sat up and stared, seeming surprised.

  "Actually Bard Clarice, there is something you could do. We have a situation here. A fully trained Bard student who's school council kicked her out, so that a relative of two of them would have a better shot at being your new apprentice." There was a pause then for nearly half a minute.

  "Oh? What school?" The voice from the box in front of them sounded bemused suddenly, instead of hard, like she had moments before.

  "Compton?" Saran looked at Pran who nodded, finally understanding that the voice from the box was Bard Clarice. As in the Bard Clarice.

  The High Councils Bard.

  Saran spoke faster then.

  "I haven't heard her play or sing yet, but she was first in her class. Tossed out on her very last day too, no matter what, that's a waste. Don't you think?"

  "I do. Well, tell her that she's back in. I'll find a place for her somewhere. What's the name?"

  Pran stepped closer to the box as Saran pushed the button for her.

  "Pran, ma'am. Bard Clarice. Currently Apprentice Guardian Pran." She shrugged since it was really her name for the time being.

  "Formerly Bard Pran and Pran Grange." That marked her as an orphan, but there was no snort of derision from the very highly placed woman on the radio.

  "What? Apprentice Guardian?" She sounded nicely baffled at it, which got a chuckle from Saran.

  "Yes, you heard that right, Apprentice Guardian Pran. Doing a decent job of it too. She's already been recommended for training if you lot are too stupid to take her back. She spent the night safe-guarding the town of Danning from a hostile force, holding one of three possible combat lines by herself. Seems to still be interested in your kind of work anyway. Go figure? You'd think after seeing what we do she'd make the switch fast, but apparently not."

  There was another click and no one spoke for nearly ten minutes, when the woman came back she sounded a little breathless.

  "Fixed. I had to rush some things through, sorry about the delay. The closest sane Bard is a younger one, on The Lament?"

  Pran pushed the button to speak, hoping it was the right thing to do.

  "Bard Benjamin?"

  "Yes, the very one. You know him?"

  Pran nodded, then rolled her eyes and pushed the button again, remembering that she had to actually talk.

  "We performed together last night, when we were, um, liberating Danning? Part of a distraction." She was about to explain more when noise started on the other side of the box.

  "Oops, well everyone is here. For now tell Bard Benjamin that you're his new apprentice. We'll get you a tryout for a better position if possible, but at the moment... This situation takes precedence. Call me if you run into any trouble."

  Then the voice went away.

  Guardian Saran shrugged.

  "And fixed. It helps to know people sometimes. Of course, just being a Bard now, that won't get you out of the real work. Not knowing that you can handle it like you have been... Clarice wasn't joking when she said this situation takes precedence. Besides, I think Clark and Mara have kind of adopted you. It wouldn't do to just rip you away from them without warning."

  The woman sounded serious, at first, but then smiled and patted Pran on the back.

  "So, Bard Pran, welcome back to your real life?"

  She nodded. It was like a weight had lifted from her shoulders that she wasn't even aware had been there. After a few seconds she took a deep breath and realized it was the first full one that she'd had in days.

  Her whole life hadn't been for nothing. She wasn't about to be dropped off in a strange town and told to fend for herself. She was a person again, not just a lie.

  It was a relief.

  It took a while for things to start to come together, but Pran and Saran didn't wait on the ship, heading back to the town at a jog. It was hard to keep up, but she managed.

  She was actually needed after all, and would be, for at least a little longer.

  Chapter eleven

  Pran ended up following Saran around for hours, struggling to watch the tree line around the town, focusing like a Guardian, even if she was a Bard again. It was exciting, but one thing being an orphan had taught her, the oldest lesson that she'd learned, was that in the end, you had to look out for yourself and no matter what you thought the world was about, it could all be taken away from you in an instant. It had happened before and could again. Some voice on a box telling her that everything was fixed? She'd believe that when...

  Honestly, Pran didn't know if she'd ever believe it.

  So for the moment it was best to keep trying to make sure she'd have food and a roof over her head at night. If nothing else, she was still technically an apprentice Guardian, which meant doing the best job she could at it. That was the second lesson that her life had given her. Once you had a chance, you needed to do everything possible to make it work. Even when it might not be real.

  So she focused and fought to keep her mind on the trees, ears open for any change in sound, no matter how minor. Nothing happened of course, except for the other craft slowly starting to come in for a landing over the next ten hours. They had lights on them once darkness fell, but they wouldn't land in the dark if they could help it. There were, Saran explained, fields designed to do that, having powerful lights for safety. They were almost never used though. It was almost free for an airship to just hang in the air, floating and moving just enough to keep a large circle going. Lights burned energy, in one form or another, so weren't used unless needed.

  There were six of the craft aloft and two on the ground in the big field. It was late when they all got back, but apparently the plan was for everyone to sleep in their own bed that night. Pran was just as glad for it, since her mind was already numb from standing watch for ten hours.

  The Lament was in the same place it had been when they originally came in, near the back of the wide open and grassy space. Almost as if still trying to train her Clark explained the landing patterns to her.

  "It fills back to front left to right. That way anyone coming in will know where to land, so we don't have to be in communications. Most of the time. The Lament is the command ship, even though Guardian Saran is here, since we were the first ones on the scene. She's in charge, so if anyone wants to see the person in command, we'll have to guide them to The Conscript. That can be your job in the morning. After exercises." He said it lazily, as if knowing something she didn't, but Mara laughed after a few seconds.

  "He's just teasing Pran. We were already told that things have gone back to normal for you. I knew they would. You're too good to waste. Not that having you as one of us wasn't nice... I could have at least gotten a few more baskets of laundry out of you."

  Pran smiled, knowing that no one would be able to see her.

  "I can take in some wash for a bit, if you want. Exercises too. It never hurts to have more than one skill, right?"

  She didn't want to risk making anyone mad, but Saran, who was still in the wagon, waiting for everyone else to climb out cleared her throat.

  "Good call. We'll use you here at command then, if your new master allows it. Running errands and watch. He'll probably put on shows in the evening, so you should work t
hat out too. That's a Bard's job, so I don't know what practice you'll need for that." Her voice was a little tired sounding as she got herself out of the wagon. She'd ridden on the front seat, some man from The Conscript driving. He didn't talk nearly as much as Paul did, which reminded her of a few things. The first one was that she should make sure someone visited with him and the other injured people the next day. They'd get bored, just lying in bed after all.

  The second was more pressing to her.

  "I wonder what happened to Dovish." Her voice was low, but Clark answered anyway, sounding a bit concerned himself.

  "I wish I knew. I hate to say it, but he either ran off or went into the woods and was killed. Most likely at least. I suppose he might have been taken prisoner, but no one would keep him after they figured out that he's not as bright as some. I... can't imagine it's a good situation."

  That was about what Pran was thinking too. The big man just wasn't that useful to anyone and no one trying to start an army would want him in particular. Good people didn't go around trying to do that, did they?

  She grunted a little and walked to her room, taking her little side pack and rifle with her, muscles still aching, but doing better than she had been the day before. Now it was soreness, but not actual pain, meaning she was healing up. Sleep was a little bit fitful, dreaming that they were under attack, waking up to the sound of Roy breathing deeply next to her at least five times. He didn't say anything, but he had to be waking up when she did. There was groaning involved at least, if nothing else.

  When the light came through the window she opened her eyes to find the young man with his back turned, pulling his trousers up, shirtless. He had a nice back, lean, but with more muscle than she would have figured on someone as thin as he was.

  She just stood up herself, and gathered clothing from the chest at the foot of her bed, intending to shower if possible. Her head was filled with cobwebs and shaking didn't clear it, but Pran managed a grin when her roommate turned around.

  "Morning. Sorry about all the bad dreams. I hope it didn't cut too much into your sleep." She tried to sound sympathetic, but Roy waved his hands at her, almost frantically.