T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6)

by Frederick Gerty

  After a short welcoming speech by FakFak and a blessing by Charon, Lori introduced Borrelia to them, as an ambassador from Magadana, giving him a far more prestigious title than he ever expected, here to observe and establish a dialogue, and perhaps facilitate relations, surprising him considerably.

  She said to him, “They insist on a little ceremony, the children have prepared a welcome for me, now I will indulge them, shall not take long. Then we can go on and see the city. Sorry.”

  Borrelia nodded and waved, but Lori beckoned him along. They walked on a pathway strewn with flowers, people cheering and welcoming her, hands outstretched in greeting.

  As they walked, Lori said to Borrelia, “They think of me as a goddess, they are quite backward, you know. I wish they wouldn’t, but they insist. Please don’t do anything to add to the illusion, OK?”

  Borrelia couldn’t answer. He walked on behind Lori, stunned speechless. His whole family looked in wonder at the greeting, silent as well.

  This is the one we tried to kill, I, personally, insulted at first meeting? Borrelia thought, growing anxious. A goddess? Though not an ardent believer, now he wondered if he might be wrong. Indeed, a goddess could explain much, maybe all, that had happened. He wondered if this was a test for him, to weigh his loyalty, his professed friendliness. He decided to watch, and wait, and evaluate everything he saw. Meanwhile, with a scant gesture, he and his family fell back a little further in the procession, to a position more of respect, and not as an equal. He felt highly unequal, and quite nervous, at this sudden new revelation, here on the surface of Uta.

  The ceremony did little to ease his worries. They sat Lori on a glittering bench of blue, and real gold, he knew, looking on from a lower position nearby. Nervous and excited children paraded in, singing and chanting in quite the most darling manner, their–well, worship, nothing else could describe their look, their rapture, in the presence of the Sky Lady, the Goddess of Blue.

  Then, worse, adults marched in, their appearance little better than the children’s, but all bearing gifts, some of food and fruits, others quite elaborate, mostly of carvings or artwork of some sort, many gilded in gold, silver, or with a small gemstone as a centerpiece.

  More singing and music followed, a great, rousing wave of noise, that ended with everyone standing and cheering, then dropping to their knees and bowing to the Sky Lady, the Goddess of Blue, the Slayer of Mackanima.

  The what? Borrelia thought, on his knees as well. What did they say? Slayer of that murderous despot, Mackanima? Yes, true, at least that’s what they said, the chant repeated, as Lori stood, and waved them to their feet, and moved to greet any nearby, touching them, bending low to put her hands on the heads of ecstatic children, and hold the hands of adults little better. She killed Mackanima? By herself? Truly stunned now, Borrelia watched. He’d heard of Mackanima, who hadn’t? T’ming himself thought of him as quite a hero, they being two from the same mold, no doubt. And this one, this woman, had killed Mackanima?

  Lori slowly eased out and away, aided by FakFak, Charon and a few priests, beckoning Borrelia to follow, and they made progress through the throng, which insisted on following them back to the air cars. Lori entered with her entourage, and slowly rose, circling the cheering crowd below once, then turned toward the city, saying over her shoulder, “Isn’t this awful? I am so embarrassed. But it won’t be repeated, it’s just their over-reaction to the return of the ship.”

  No, the ship has nothing to do with it, Borrelia mused, looking behind at the crowd, now racing along on the broad roadway, following the air car back toward the city. It has everything to do with the return of the Sky Lady. The Slayer of Mackanima? No wonder they call her the Goddess of Blue. He wondered about that as they approached the domed structure and slowly settled onto an upper terrace. A glance at his wife and children showed they shared his sudden new awareness and appreciation for this ever more amazing alien, this Sky Lady. Goddess? Indeed.

  A far different welcome awaited her here at the temple, but one no less enthusiastic. It began with two little furballs bounding into the air car, screaming, “Sky Lady! Sky Lady!” Over and over. She led the two kits out and onto the terrace, where a small group bowed and knelt as one to her, several then rising to walk to Lori and greet her, shocking Borrelia by embracing her in their arms, with long hugs.

  The other ones, FakFak and that priest somebody landed behind, but did nothing to stop the over-familiarity of these disrespectful natives. So, was she a goddess, or not? Maybe not. But someone of incredible power, presence, and admiration among these people. Something T’ming craved, and never found, with his heavy hand and short patience. Oh, he achieved cheers and crowds, all right, but none with anything like the enthusiasm of these people, all displayed of obvious free will. How did she ever do that, he wondered, glancing at his family, watching in silent admiration. He’d need to continue and watch, and observe her himself, and act very cautiously, and much more formally to this powerful person, female even if she might be.

  The greetings, done, Lori introduced Borrelia and his family to the others–a female, Tarue, her spouse, Joshi, someone of importance, he gathered, and a number of lesser individuals, all associated with the school in which they stood. A school that taught the use of computers to these backward peoples? Now, that would take the power of a god, indeed, Borrelia chuckled inward at the incongruity of it all, knew it was quite impossible, now he saw the flaw of the supposed Sky Lady. Maybe not so smart after all.

  Lori invited Borrelia to stay at the school, and several kits and one adult arrived to show them to a selection of rooms, all off a quite pleasant courtyard, with a splashing fountain, and then to a dining area, full of native fruits and foods of several sorts, new and different things quite good and tasty, his family reported, as they dined on a platter of some sort of colorful soft fruit. This might not be so bad a place for exile, after all.

  Left alone, he drifted to a small area, and observed the class in session there. The more he saw, the tighter his bowels became. Here, a mixed group of young, some very young, no longer kits, but not by much, and older natives, worked with a teacher, one of those bird people, resplendent in golden feathers, the student’s hands flashing and moving along on the surface of the tiny computers everywhere in the place. Yes, they did learn of the use of computers. Incredible.

  The bird stopped its lesson, and waved to Borrelia with a feathery arm, and said, in excellent language, “Will you be able to join us in the lesson, esteemed visitor?” All eyes shot to him, and Borrelia mumbled, “Ah, I am too new, and there is no empty place, no machine...”

  An aide moved to him and held up a computer, a reddish-brown one, opened it, and handed it to him. The groups shuffled a little, and space appeared at the low table nearby. Borrelia looked down, said, “Why not,” and put the machine down on the table. Already somewhat familiar with the device from his time on the ship, he said, “What are you doing?”

  The teacher chirped at someone, and a youngster, a female, eyes just cleared, he noticed, and quite beautiful, he felt a little nervous at someone so young and attractive, came to his side, and began to instruct him, a translator in the machine itself carrying her words. He followed her directions, slowly for sure, but carefully, and she paced herself to his progress, and he soon found himself deep into the records on the machine, a place he’d never found on his own, looking in amazement at features on one of the other species’ planets, wondrous places and buildings, while the history of the people slowly played to him.

  So engrossed he became, he did not want to stop at the meal break, but the teacher assured him he could return to the lesson at any time, and showed him how, with a few words, or a series of pokes at the machine, which he understood, but knew he’d never remember. The teacher closed the machine, and handed it to him.

  “A gift from the Sky Lady,” the bird said. “Treasure it always,” and bowed to him.

  Borrelia bowed in turn. “Indeed, I shall,” he said, and sl
owly walked away, to look for the rest of his family. He found them gathered near the fountain, each with a computer of their own, each trying to tell them of what they’d seen all at once.

  “Dad, did you even think, ever imagine...?” Alexii started to say.

  “No, son, never. It’s like it’s magic.” He looked upward, up the stairs toward the terrace where he’d left the Sky Lady not long ago. “That, or we are truly in the presence of the gods.”

  Lori sat on deep cushions, the kits at her side, with Tarue and Joshi nearby, everyone eating and drinking a fine picnic assembled there. Tari hovered at her side, bringing more of anything she wanted.

  “So you have brought an ambassador from the planet,” Tarue said. “They treated you well, I take it.”

  “No, actually, they didn’t,” Lori said, looking at her. “They tried to kill me...several times.” She slowly touched her face, and they saw the still healing skin. In the stunned silence she ate a greenfruit, and looked at Tarue and Joshi.

  Joshi slowly stood up, saying, “How dare they? I will kill them myself...” his voice cold and full of fury.

  “No, you will not. Those responsible are well punished, from the high to the low. Borrelia is quite a help to us, we rescued him from certain death himself, his family as well. He can tell us much, we can learn from him, and have already. Treat him well. The planetary difficulties are behind us, and some of the ships are there, trading now. So the journey was successful, it went well, I’d say, in the end.”

  “Tell us the story, Sky Lady,” Tarue said, quietly, and Lori began to do so. FakFak, Charon, and a few others joined the group. Everyone listened as she spoke. They sat, eating little, surprised at her tales, until she said, “And so, here I am.”

  Tarue sighed. “Now you have fresh scars on your bare flesh, further evidence of the burdens of leadership you carry. And greater testimony to your courage.” She looked long at Lori. “Sky Lady, what may we do to ease your discomfort?”

  Lori smiled a little, shook her head. “Nothing. Already, I have my...scouts, out exploring the tropical areas, looking for an island, a new place, warm, with a calm sea in which to swim. Somewhere I can rest my bones for a few days, in the sun and air, and relax and renew myself. That will do much to ease my discomfort. And then I shall return, and see about exploring more of your wonderful planet.”

  “Whatever you might need, or want, we will be pleased to provide,” Joshi said, “Including seclusion, if that is your desire.”

  “No, it is not, only in being in a place we humans like, warm, by the sea. There is, alas, none of that here,” and she waved a hand about, flipped it around, and laughed.

  “I know it will be found, and I know you will find the rest and peace you need,” Tarue said, coming up to her, putting her hands on her shoulders. “And I will miss you again, and await your return.”

  “So, why not visit me sometime?” Lori said.

  Chapter 23 - Island Rest

  Lori lay on the cot, awake, but feigning sleep. Again. Or more. Eric had visited and nursed, then went off again, she heard his voice, and Tari’s at play nearby. The morning rain shower had ended, the air felt moist and warm. She didn’t want to get up yet, but soon her bladder insisted. She arose, sat for a minute, stood and stretched, muscles still stiff and sore this time of day from the beating many days ago. She rubbed her chest, pleased that all but one of the dressings were off, at last, only the long slash line still covered, and still looking bright red and raw. She left the tent, walked down the rain smoothed beach toward the water. At the shore, she squatted and peed into the water, watching the stream, clear and yellow again.

  Eric rushed up, and she sat back on the sand as he pushed and poked at her breasts. She cradled him in her arms, letting him nurse, ignoring everything else, as she smiled and cooed at him. He smiled back at her, his mouth full and wet around her nipple, and he touched her face with his hand. She pretended to nibble at his fingers, and he giggled, pulling his hand away, then darting it back.

  She let her feet rest in the mild water, in the small little wavelets rushing in and out, and watched the tiny fish dart up to her toes, and away again. They looked like glittering pieces of plastic confetti.

  Glancing back up the beach, she saw her entourage watching her, standing by, leaving her alone. Hunter, tall and tanned and as naked as she was. Tari, the Kobi, anxious, fretful, worried about her and the baby both. Parus, the Anawoka doctor, immobile as ever, just watching. The Kobi servant crew, behind them, and on the perimeter two humans, military guards, more unseen in the air and on the ground. All arranged for her.

  And no doubt, each worried about her, in their own way. Her silence and withdrawn attitude, deepened since her arrival on the island, probably didn’t help, but she didn’t care. This was her time, her escape, and she’d spend it any way she wanted to. And she wanted to be left alone, to heal, to mend, to hold her son, to swim and snorkel, though breathing was difficult still with her face in the water, and to walk on the beach and in the jungle nearby, and to rest and lay in the sun as long as she wanted. And not to engage in conversation or discussion, even if everyone said it’d be good for her.

  With her ship away, back to that Magadana planet, with several others, to trade, and everything well organized here on Uta, even the illi-illi going about their business without her having to hold their hands, she could relax, and not think about what had to be done next. For the first time in years, literally. And concentrate on herself. And her son.

  Full, Eric stood, immediately peed, she moved away from his strong stream, and watched as he raced back to Tari. Lori stood up too, and stepped into the warm water, walking into its fluid embrace. She swam out into the turquoise sea, passing slowly between the dark coral reefs inshore. Immediately the shadow of Eagle One passed overhead, as the air car took a station above her.

  She turned on her back, and floated in the water, looking up at the gleaming orb of the air car, smiling. Here, too was one of the issues rattling in her mind. She didn’t know what bothered her more now, the fact the air car left her on Earth, or that she’d left the air car there on that awful planet, gone beyond the reach of its ability to protect her, and gotten well battered and beat up as a result. Both times, actually. Worse this one, maybe. At least she hadn’t gotten whip-saw disease this time. Again. Or anything else, yet.

  The sun felt warm and wonderful on her bare body, the water like a mild bath. The sky, so blue here, the clouds pure white. With her arms out, her legs drifting apart, her body caressed by the water, she didn’t want to move. But she slowly sank unless she swam a little, and she was hungry now, too. Her entourage watched, still, more fretful than ever, but left her alone.

  She felt better now, so much better, too. Relaxed. Even a little energetic again. She rubbed her hand over the slash mark on her chest, it hardly ached any more. Her face and mouth felt fine again, too. She was nearly all recovered. This place was a good choice.

  With a deep breath, she turned over and slowly swam to shore. She walked up the beach, water running off her body, and she smiled at her husband as her son rushed toward her. Scooping him up in her arms and swinging him high, then holding him against her hip, she came into the camp area and went to the dining tent.

  “Breakfast, Darling?” Hunter asked, leaning to kiss her.

  She ate slowly, baby on her lap, and she fed him morsels from her plate–soggy bits of pancake and syrup, small pieces of fruit, sips of juice, even a slug of coffee, to which he puckered up his lips and made a face, to the amusement of everyone else.

  As she sat sipping another cup of coffee, Hunter asked her what she wanted to do today. She knew exactly what, and wanted to lure him away from the camp, and all the observant eyes, to do that.

  “I’d like to take a stroll down the beach, and back, or maybe cut back through the woods,” Lori said, gazing off along the shoreline. Looking at him, and smiling, she added, “And maybe stop along the way for some afternoon delight.”


  Hunter smiled at her, nodding slowly. “Sounds good to me. When do we leave?”

  “Soon as I’ve finished,” she said, holding the coffee cup in the air.

  They chatted a bit more as she sipped the coffee. They decided Tari would come along for the baby, they’d stroll slowly, with some snacks, towels, and sandals for later, if they needed them.

  Wearing a broad-rimmed hat, and nothing else, Lori took Eric’s hand, and began the slow trek east along the beach, away from camp. Hunter carried a short hiking stick, which he used to flip over the various objects lying in the sand, shells, dead hardfish, clumps of seaweed, whatever. Tari followed, with a pack on her back, close to Lori, watching Eric every moment. As ever, Eagle One flew along overhead, and an escort air car drifted above that, out to sea a little ways. They soon passed the faint headland, and the camp was lost to view.

  Lori lifted Eric, carried him on her hip, as she strolled along, feet in the water, breeze in her hair. Hunter darted ahead, took a few photos of Lori as she walked along. He continued to photograph her, standing looking out to sea, then backlit by the bright sun, from the side as she strolled along holding the naked baby, the blue-green water behind her, the pale sky beyond, a trace of white where the waves broke out on the reef. Lori felt annoyed at first, but then looked down at her battered body. The wounds were mostly healed, the bruises faded. And as she smiled at Hunter, she felt glad he liked to see her bare body, still. And she glanced at him, and liked the taut, well muscled masculine shape he presented. He trotted toward her, and she watched his long penis swinging back and forth.

  They rounded another headland, a sharper one, and turned north. Now the reef faded, and waves, small waves, curled in and crashed onto the shore, the water rushing up and away again down the beach. Eric looked at them, pointing, and Lori put him down, but he complained, and she picked him up again. They walked on.