Worlds Apart (ThreeCon)

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  After Praxiteles translated Rishi’s speech, Eugenie jumped up and spoke rapidly in her own language.

  “Noble lady.” Praxiteles translated her comments. “The Mercouri are indeed in your debt. I, the Mercouri, say this, and I beg that you will believe me. We would do anything—give you anything—that you asked of us. If we have it, you have only to speak, and it is yours to keep.”

  “All right,” Rishi said, smiling. It was nice that they recognized how wonderful she was. And after all, there were things she wanted. Still standing, she laid one hand negligently on Praxiteles’ shoulder. “Since you insist, I’ll take him.”

  Chapter Three

  Prax heard the words with a sense of disbelief. He waited a moment, the strange woman’s hand on his shoulder. Could he have heard her wrong? Or misunderstood the words? No, the shocked look on Hari’s face told him he had understood correctly.

  His muscles tensed as he cleared his throat. Rishi’s hand stroked his shoulder tenderly. “The lady says—” His voice broke, and he had to start over. “The lady says she will—will take me.” His voice trailed off at the end, but clearly, Eugenie heard him.

  The Mercouri stood up again. She darted a look at Prax as if she suspected him of translating incorrectly, and then she glanced at her nephew Milos, who had begun to learn city language. The boy said nothing, and she glared at Prax. “Does she mean for tonight or forever?”

  Prax felt his face grow hot. All around him the Mercouri clan were whispering among themselves, passing along the stranger’s words to those who couldn’t hear them for themselves. Everyone stared at him. His mother looked horrified, and even his father’s expression registered alarm. Prax was glad that Penelope had small children and Iphigenia had to tend to Nikos so that neither of his sisters was there to see his new shame.

  “Lady,” Prax forced himself to say in city language, “Eugenie wishes to know your meaning. Do you mean—” Prax stopped. He took a deep breath and went on. “Do you mean forever or—or just for tonight?”

  Rishi looked surprised, almost offended. “I thought the offer was for keeps. Do you mean it’s not?”

  Prax didn’t know what to say. He translated her response, and instantly chaos broke out. Achilles began shouting that the Elliniká didn’t trade in human flesh, while Eugenie retorted that the Mercouri paid their debts, even if the Kazanti didn’t. Others joined in the argument.

  Prax wished for nothing more than a hole in the ground into which he could sink and disappear forever. Next to him, the foreign woman stood waiting. The stones in her gown gleamed in the firelight like stars. It was as if she had wrapped herself in the night sky.

  “What’s going on?” she said.

  “It doesn’t matter, lady.” Prax took a deep breath. “So you meant forever?”

  “Certainly.” She smiled at him and ran one fingertip down his arm. “But of course, forever includes tonight.”

  Hari reached over and tugged Rishi toward him. Prax heard him whisper in an urgent voice. “Are you out of your mind?”

  She laughed and made no attempt to hide her conversation. “No. In fact, I think I’m saner now than I’ve been in years.”

  Hari tightened his grip on her arm. “How much wine did you drink?”

  “Three glasses,” she said. “Why?”

  Hari muttered something that sounded like an oath, but Prax didn’t recognize the words. “You tell these people you were only joking,” Hari said. “You tell them it’s all a misunderstanding. Do you hear me, girl?”

  “I hear you fine.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “But it’s not a mistake, Hari. They asked me what I wanted, and I told them. What’s wrong with that?”

  He cursed again in the same unknown language. “Rishi, for God’s sake! You can’t ask for a person like he’s a bundle of dry goods!”

  “Then they shouldn’t have offered me anything I wanted.” Rishi smiled at Prax again, a happy smile that said she had no cares at all. “What’s going on now?”

  He shook his head, unwilling to translate the arguments.

  Milos stood up. “I know words,” he said in city language.

  Rishi smiled encouragement at him. “I remember you. You helped out when Praxiteles was hurt. What’s going on?”

  “Eugenie say we must pay our—our debt,” Milos said in city language, stumbling over the words. “Achilles say we not sell people as—as—we not sell our people. Eugenie say this not for him to say. This a Mercouri—a Mercouri thing.”

  Prax’s mother stood up suddenly. “Let your son pay this debt, then,” she said to Eugenie.

  Eugenie’s lip curled. “I have no unmarried sons.”

  Circe glared angrily at Eugenie and then at the assembled company. “Then let someone else’s son pay it.”

  “She hasn’t asked for anyone else’s son,” Eugenie said, her tone almost gentle. “And would you rather give her someone Nikos’s age?”

  Konstantin rose and put an arm around his wife. “Sometimes a man’s duty is to do those things that only he can do, no matter what they are. You know that, Circe.”

  As soon as he heard his father speak, Prax knew what he had to do. He cleared his throat and spoke in a deferential tone to Eugenie. “Lady, what about my debt to the Mercouri?”

  She frowned at this reference to his past crime. She considered a moment. “That debt is still there, but this one takes precedence. Until our clan’s debt to this stranger is paid, your own must wait.”

  Prax nodded. “I’ll go, then.”

  Circe wailed in distress, and Konstantin wrapped her in an embrace.

  “What’s wrong?” Rishi asked.

  ‘Nothing is wrong, lady,” Prax said. “My mother is upset because I am going with you.”

  A warm smile lit her face. “Wonderful. Go and pack your things. I’ll wait here.”

  Prax took one last look at the assembled company. It seemed like an hour at least, and yet it had been only a few minutes ago that his life had been turned upside down. He was as good as banished now, and through no fault of his own this time. He might have smiled at this woman and thought passionate thoughts about her, but he had said or done nothing to disgrace his family. Yet there he was, disgraced worse than ever.

  He turned and started for his family’s wagon. Almost as soon as he left the circle of light from the bonfire, he heard hasty footsteps behind him.

  “Praxiteles!” his mother’s voice called.

  Prax halted. It would be rude to ignore her, and he was still an Elliniká.

  His mother caught up to him and grabbed him by the arm. “Praxiteles, you can’t go with this woman.”

  “I have to.”

  His mother took his other arm and shook him. “Praxiteles, she’s up to no good. I’ve seen how she looks at you.”

  His father approached out of the darkness and pulled his mother gently back. “Let him alone, Circe.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mother,” Prax said. “It doesn’t matter what she wants from me, or what she intends. Nothing matters except that we owe her a debt, and we must pay it.”

  His mother sobbed and reached out to clutch his shirt. “But, Praxiteles, she’s an outlander. Not just a city woman, but from another world!”

  “I know that, Mother.” He pulled out of her grasp as gently as he could. “I have to pack now. The woman wants to leave soon.”

  She wailed again, but Konstantin held her tightly.

  Prax turned away and walked to his family’s wagon.

  When he came near his own campfire, Nikos was sitting up while Iphigenia gave him a drink. She put the cup down as soon as she saw Prax.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Is the feast over so soon?”

  “It is for me,” Prax said. “I have to leave.”

  He opened the storage box on the side of the wagon where
he kept his saddle bags and slung them over his shoulder.

  Nikos stared at him. “What do you mean you have to leave?”

  “I mean, I have to leave,” Prax said. “The foreign lady who saved us asked me to go with her.”

  Before either of them could speak, he climbed into the wagon and found his clothes and his bouzouki. He shoved the clothes into his saddle bags, added a few things of sentimental value, and buckled the bags closed. He debated about taking his rifle, but decided against it. With no way to make ammunition, it would soon be useless.

  When he came out, his parents were waiting. Nikos looked shocked, and Iphigenia wept bitterly.

  “Don’t go away, Prax!” she cried. “Please don’t go! That woman has no right to take you away!”

  “Yes, she does,” Prax said. “Eugenie gave her the right when she offered her whatever she wanted.”

  “Then let someone else give up a son!” Circe spat out the words.

  “Prax kept his tone deferential. “I have less to lose than any man here. You know as well as I do that I wouldn’t still be with the Mercouri if it weren’t for my crime. And besides, this woman saved us. She gave you back Nikos and Iphigenia, so it doesn’t seem fair to complain about me.”

  It was as close to challenging her as he could come without being unfilial.

  His father patted Circe’s shoulder. “Say goodbye now, or you won’t get the chance.”

  His mother threw her arms around Prax and hugged him tightly.

  Prax hugged her back and kissed her cheek. “Goodbye, Mother.”

  He embraced his father and his brother and sister in turn. “You’ll have to tell Penelope and Grandmother goodbye for me, tomorrow,” he said to his father. “And Apollo when you see him.”

  His father nodded and slapped his shoulder. “I’m very proud of you, Praxiteles.”

  Prax swallowed hard and nodded back, unable to speak for a moment. “Will you all wait here so I don’t have to say goodbye again in front of everyone?”

  His father’s eyes looked as sad as he had ever seen them, worse even than when he had watched Prax being taken away for punishment. “Of course.”

  Prax turned and made his way back to the bonfire. He wanted very much to look back at them, but he was afraid if he did he would never be able to leave them. Instead, he kept walking through the darkness to where the strangers waited.

  When he got there, Eugenie and the other Elliniká were standing quietly.

  Hari had taken Rishi aside and was arguing with a quiet intensity. “But, Rishi, why does he need to come with us now? He could stay here for tonight, and we could come get him in the morning. What’s a few more hours? Give the man a chance to get used to the idea.”

  “No, Hari.” Rishi’s voice was pleasant enough but firm. “I don’t want to wait until morning to leave this system. And I don’t intend to be alone in my cabin when we head out, either.”

  The other strangers stood silent, the ones in gray tunics as well as the ones in blue shirts. They watched as Prax walked toward the foreign woman.

  “I am ready, lady.”

  Rishi turned her face to him and smiled a smile of pure delight. “So am I, Praxiteles. Let’s go, shall we?”

  She slipped her hand through his arm possessively. Prax tried not to flinch. He would have to get used to it.

  “Goodbye,” Rishi said with a bright smile, nodding at Eugenie and Achilles as they stood silent and disapproving.

  “The lady says goodbye,” Prax said in Elliniká.

  “You may give her our farewells, also,” Eugenie said, “but no more of our thanks. Whatever we owed her for her compassion is canceled by her lack of propriety.”

  Prax translated only the first part of the clan leader’s declaration.

  Rishi seemed unconcerned. She waved an arm at the assembled company and looked to Hari. “Lead the way, please, Hari.”

  The off-worlder’s expression bordered on a scowl, but he set off from the Elliniká camp, walking at a brisk pace toward the flying machine on the nearby plains.

  Rishi held Prax’s arm the whole time, chatting away about her impressions of Celadon and the Elliniká. Prax said nothing. She didn’t seem to need him to speak, only to be there.

  When they came to the ship, Prax saw it up close for the first time. It was many times bigger than a wagon, but still, it didn’t look large enough to provide a living space for so many people.

  “How did this machine make blue lightning?” Prax asked.

  Rishi laughed, a child’s laugh, all delight and no condescension. “Oh, this isn’t my starship. The Golden Hawk is much, much bigger than this shuttle. All this ship does is travel back and forth between the planet’s surface and the Golden Hawk.”

  Prax felt a sudden overwhelming sense of inadequacy. He had been to Pireaus and Agnios and some of the smaller cities of the plains, but he had never traveled in an off-world vehicle, never stayed overnight in a house, never spent more than a few hours at a time away from the Elliniká. Now he looked at the ramp that led up to the shuttle’s interior and felt as if he were stepping into another world, a world in which he knew nothing.

  “Come along,” Rishi said, tugging on his arm.

  Recalled to his duty, Prax followed her up the ramp. He found himself in a sort of long room, but one with no windows and only rows and rows of straight-backed padded chairs that all faced the same way and seemed bolted to the floor.

  Rishi chose a seat and patted the one beside her. Prax put his belongings on the floor and sank into the chair with dread in his heart. He was about to fly through the air, and he had no idea what to do next.

  Hari took the seat behind him, while Rishi leaned back and closed her eyes. Prax tried to relax. All at once, a strange, soft webbing grew from either side of his seat and enveloped him. He surged forward, trying to get up, but the webbing held him tightly.

  “Take it easy, Praxiteles,” Hari said. “It’s only a safety harness. Everyone has one.”

  Prax could see that it was true. Rishi hadn’t moved at all when her harness swaddled her. He leaned back against the seat cushions.

  Hari reached from behind him and flicked a button on the panel above Prax’s head. “Maybe it will help if you can see what’s going on.”

  The panel slid down so it was almost directly in front of Prax’s face and became a picture. Prax realized it showed the lights of the Mercouri encampment. In a few minutes, the image swiveled and then Prax had the sensation of rising in the air. There was no noise, and only a faint vibration from the floor, but Prax could feel that they were moving.

  The image of the encampment fell away from them suddenly, and Prax realized the machine must be rising swiftly. He stared hard at the last view he might ever have of his people. In seconds, only the bonfires were visible, and then even they disappeared into blackness.

  Blackness covered the whole screen for several minutes, but as Prax watched, a curved line of beautiful pale green appeared on one side. The green line grew wider and wider, and then suddenly, Prax could see that he was looking at a sphere. One half was black except for a strip of light at the outer edge, and the other half was pale green dotted with large brown and tan patches. Swirls of white wrapped huge swathes of the green and brown half.

  “That’s Celadon,” Hari said from over his shoulder. “That’s your world. It’s almost unique, you know. On most worlds, if there are oceans, they’re the same color as the sky. But on Celadon, the oceans are full of chemicals that make the water look green instead of just reflecting the blue of the sky.”

  Prax knew the man was trying to be kind, but he found it difficult to care about oceans he had never seen. “Where are we going?”

  Hari reached over his shoulder and pushed another button on the panel. Instantly, the image changed to show blackness, with tiny dots of bright light. One light was br
ighter than all the others. As Prax watched, it grew bigger and bigger and became a huge silver sphere.

  “Is that your world?” Prax asked.

  Hari grinned. “No, that’s the Golden Hawk, the flagship of the Trahn fleet of merchant ships. But for now, it’s home.”

  The sphere grew huge, until its very size made Prax sweat. As they drew close, a small circular hole opened in the side of the sphere. They seemed to be headed right for the hole, as it grew larger by the second. When the dark void of it filled the screen, Prax gripped the sides of his chair. He had a sense of being swallowed up, and then all at once, bright lights came on, considerably startling him, especially as something seemed to grip the vessel and hold it tightly. He cursed in Elliniká.

  Rishi opened her eyes. “Are we here already? Great!” She stroked Prax’s arm and gave him an inviting smile.

  The strange webbing released suddenly, and Prax pushed it away.

  Rishi stood up. “Welcome aboard the Golden Hawk, Praxiteles.”

  Prax stood and then stepped out of her way, so she could exit her seat. He noted that all the others waited for her before they left their own seats. When she headed for the door, he picked up his bouzouki and his saddle bags and followed her.

  They went through the same doorway, but now the ramp led to a hard metal floor. Rishi walked across it with confidence, and Prax followed close behind, more afraid of being left behind than of what she might have planned for him.

  Doors opened automatically as Rishi approached, but Prax had seen such things in the cities and wasn’t alarmed. The smallness of the gray corridors and the sense of being completely closed in bothered him more than any technology he saw as he walked—that, and the sense that somehow his body felt strangely light, almost as if he had waded into chest high water and it now supported him.

  He was too absorbed in his surroundings to pay much attention to the strange lightness. They passed many doorways, control panels, unknown machinery, and startled crewmen who stepped back out of the way as they went past. Prax heard footsteps and looked back to see that Hari had followed them.