1 - Life
The Cell
Well this is how it ends. Aegorl Gesh looked about the cell. Nobody told him he was being arrested, just summoned to see the major. When the elevator didn’t start going to the destination he chose, he suspected trouble. When the elevator didn’t show him where he was going, he was sure it was something bad.
When he was greeted by the brig guards on P-Deck he knew it was something very dark, especially when that colonist girl and the boy with the sore arm pushed past trying to avoid eye contact. He was seized by the guards as soon as he stepped out of the lift. There was no point fighting, it’d just go against him later, he’d thought. Now, he recognized the cell he was in and he wished he’d broken a head or two instead of complying.
This was one of the turd cells, set apart for those guilty of murder or mutiny. There wasn’t going to be a trial for anything, he was just going to die.
Once a star cruiser, like the Olympus, reaches its destination, the first thing it does is jettison the accumulated waste in the ship’s sewer system toward the planet. It burns up on its way through the atmosphere like thousands of shooting stars. Inhabitants of the turd cells are jettisoned along with the waste. The cells were initially designed to deal with the bodies of those who have died from severe infectious diseases, in an attempt to keep these off planet. As there hadn’t been any serious outbreaks for generations, the cells fell into disuse until mutinies became serious. Then it was mandated that all mutineers should be jettisoned, without exception. One of the couple who passed him as he exited the lift must have been condemned as a mutineer and had found a reprieve. But a body had to be jettisoned. Before the last guard left, Aegorl asked, “Who’s the arresting officer?”
“Arresting officer?” the guard turned with a chuckle. “You’re not arrested, you’re just fecked.”
“I know that,” Aegorl answered. “I’d like to know who I’m going to wait for when I get to the other side.”
The guard closed his eyes and shook his head. “You stupid Martians. Wait for Corporal Fargia Shay then. He put the turd you’re replacing in there.” He muttered something about superstition as he walked out.
Aegorl sat wondering why he wanted to know the man’s name. He wasn’t superstitious.
He looked around the bare cell. The temperature was carefully controlled so he wouldn’t need a blanket. He had a latrine that he could use, and a bench he could sit and lay on, and that was all. All he could hope for was an early planet fall. Although not certain, it was likely that he wouldn’t be provided food, or perhaps even water, and he wasn’t sure which way he’d prefer to die, starvation, thirst or asphyxiation. Of those three, asphyxiation was the quickest.
The Mourning After
Aegorl Gesh pulled himself from beneath his bed. He couldn’t figure it, he was asleep and then woke with the bed on top of him. He looked about. It was dark. They normally didn’t turn the lights out down here. Maybe they were near their destination and he was about to be ejected. That must be it. He’d been drugged in his sleep and put into a waste ejection tube ready for execution.
It smelled like dirt though. This was wrong. It should smell of excrement. That’s what ejection tubes smell of. Water reclamation is important when there’s this many people on a ship, and the accumulation of crap isn’t ejected until orbit. Then the water tanks can be replenished. Although they deny it, it’s well known that Star Force ships reclaim water from sewage to top up their water tanks. They wouldn’t waste a bed either.
Aegorl looked for a clue to where he was. There was some light along the floor, or ground or whatever it was. He crawled toward it. A little way along it was clear this wasn’t floor. Revulsion shot through him when he felt wet sticky material beneath his hand. But it smelled like... dirt?
He reached the light and dug. As he dug, more light entered his cell, he could see the walls. He was still in the holding cell, but… He dug some more, the clay clogged his fingernails now and he could see some more. There was a chair in a corner that he could get to. It was sturdy, artificial wood, but it would break and the pieces would make better digging implements than his fingers. With the aid of the broken pieces of chair, he was able to clear a hole big enough for him to crawl through. Emerging on the other side of the wall of his cell, he was greeted with a sight he’d never seen before, blue skies.
“Throw me to a planet’s surface will they?” Aegorl said, taking the time to appreciate the irony of it. About to die to save the career of some Star Force jonnie, he lived and the jonnie died, or should have died. Aegorl looked at the desolation. Fargia Shay, he thought. That was the name of the man who condemned him. It looked like there had been no other survivors. There shouldn’t be any survivors; but he was here, and alive.
The hill he stood on was bare except for wreckage, as were the hills behind that. To be expected when a star ship crashes he supposed. It covered a pretty big area in one direction, but directly in front of him was greenery. Trees and shrubs and ferns covered the land on the other side of the gully. To walk into the desolation was to walk toward a people who’d decided he should die. Although he’d likely just find their corpses, there was a chance some survived, like him. He glanced about, seeing some charred remains, possibly his guards. Maybe one of them was Corporal Shay. It seemed the place he’d been put to wait to die was what saved his life. More than that, it looked like he’d escaped with only a few bruises.
Some god must have decided that Aegorl Gesh was to survive this. He wasn’t going to disappoint that god by placing himself back into the custody of those who sought to kill him. He walked away from the desolation, toward the greenery resolving not to look back.
2 - Death
A Mistake
Aegorl Gesh sat by another stream. He looked at the red berries on the trees. It was dark again and he was hungry, but not so hungry that he’d risk eating an unknown berry. He’d been alright so far, eating what looked like tomatoes that grew on some of the bushes he’d come across along the way. Yesterday he’d seen the last of these. He still remembered that if anything were going to be poisonous, it’d be berries.
Berries, tomatoes, what was he thinking? This wasn’t Earth; he hadn’t even been to Earth. All he knew about these things were the plants grown in the hydroponic farms in the caves on his home planet, Mars. For all he knew these berries were perfectly safe. The tomato-like plants were safe. He supposed himself lucky for that. He drank more water, stood and walked some more. He’d need to find something soon, otherwise he’d have to go back to the tomato plants he’d found, back toward the Olympus. Just as he began to resign himself to the idea that he’d need to turn back, he saw them. Another grove of tomato-like bushes was a few meters away. Surely there must have been some god looking after him. These were by far the biggest one’s he’d seen so far. He bent down and picked one up. As he bit into it, the bitterness warned him these weren’t what he thought they were. He spat it out, but it was too late. He could feel numbness spreading from his cheeks, down his body. His thought while losing consciousness was, the god that brought him here was very pale.
Pelathu and the Drusulfalnar
The path around the hills was long. It added three days to what Pelathu knew was a five day journey. There was nothing for it. Even though curiosity gnawed at him like a mikilmuss in a grain store, he dared not stray. The findlings had warned them off and it wasn’t his place to go against them uninstructed.
The Drusulfalnar were plains folk, who rode thru aihwass, but who sometimes ventured into the forested hills of the Dupsalfala for forage. The trails they used were wide and heavily compacted, and were easy to track. Though large and fast, the aihwass defecated as they travelled. Even when there were no tracks, aihwass manure would still mark their passing. The riders seldom cared about this since an aihwass could run many times faster than a lander and many times farther.
Soon after reaching the plains, Pelathu’s attention was drawn to some fresh aihwass dung on the path he followed. It meant Drusulfalnar warriors were near. The tracks through the grass looked like something was being dragged. This meant they could be caught up with easily. Pelathu broke into a slow trot. He could keep up a pace just short of running for most of the day if needed. It was something he’d cultivated over years. The Drusulfalnar were a nomadic people so it was imperative he catch up with these. Otherwise it may take several days to find them, and he didn’t carry enough food or water for that.
Toward the end of the day, he saw a faint line of smoke from the other side of a distant hill. Luck was with him. If he continued at his current pace, he’d meet them before nightfall. It would mean that if they weren’t friendly, like he expected, he’d be too exhausted to fight. But this wasn’t the lands north of the mountains. A peace had been in place between the tribes here for the past five summers. Still, Pelathu decided to proceed with caution. Within an hour he’d be close enough to their camp to be seen, and he didn’t doubt there’d be warriors watching the horizon toward the Dupsalfala lands. This was one time he valued his Liuhtjan robes the most. A warrior wearing a familiar green tunic would be harder to see, but still seen. A Liuhtjan in his robes would be much easier to see, and considered less of a threat.
He was right. Within the hour he made out the distinctive forms of warriors riding aihwass coming toward him. He stopped to gather his strength. He wasn’t in a hurry any more. The riders had seen him and they’d be upon him soon enough. It wasn’t long before four riders surrounded him.
“What brings you to the plains Liuhtjan?” the lead warrior asked. He wore the dark brown tunic of a Drusulfalnar leader, with brown hair tied at the back looking like the tail of the aihwass he rode. The aihwass was a magnificent beast, standing almost as tall as a man, its mane flowing behind its long head. The beasts had always fascinated Pelathu who was still in awe of any man who could ride one.
“I come with a message for the Fadrei of the Drusulfalnar,” Pelathu said.
“You don’t look Dupsalfala,” the warrior told him. “You don’t look much like a Liuhtjan.”
“I am Liuhtjan of the Haujanfarigune.”
“The one called Pelathu?” one of the others asked.
“That is me. Who do I address?”
The younger rider looked to the lead rider who nodded curtly toward him. The young man then dismounted and approached Pelathu. The man’s aihwass obediently stood still behind him. “My name is Niarn. My father told me of you.”
“Your father?” Pelathu looked at him. He was not much more than a boy.
“His name is Chavarn.”
“You’re Haujanfarigune?”
“Was, we joined the plain people when I was small.”
“Your family could return. Our war has been over now for many years.”
“It is not the war we fled,” the lad answered. “The dead seek us. Our only safety is on the plains, among different lingen.”
The leader of the warriors had dismounted and now stood between Pelathu and Niarn, who bowed and stepped back.
“My name is Pelathu, Liuhtjan to the Haujanfarigune, and I have a message for the Fadrei of the Drusulfalnar from the Fadrei of the Dupsalfala.” It was the kind of formal introduction that the occasion demanded.
“My name is Ernthraal, weiganfraujan of the Drusulfalnar tribes. What brings the Dupsalfala to send a Haujanfarigune with their message?”
“The dead,” Pelathu said.
Ernthraal nodded like he understood. “We have no spare aihwass for you to ride on, but we’re slowed by the brown lander we found.”
“Brown lander?” Pelathu asked.
“Yes, he has a brown colour, like none of us has seen before.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, if he were we’d have left him for the ulfarrh. What do you know of them?”
“I know the bodies found under where the sky exploded were brown.”
“You know those who have been there?”
“I know the Dead have been warned the Dupsalfala and the Haujanfarigune to stay away from these hills.”
“The dead walked over the hills, killing all of brown landers. This is what we thought, until we found him.”
“The dead don’t kill,” Pelathu couldn’t understand.
“They do now.”
“Is the brown lander damaged?”
“He has eaten darneis fruit and is still in the sleep.”
“Are you sure it was darneis fruit?”
“I saw him pick it and take a bite.”
Something then occurred to Pelathu. “The dead killed?”
“That’s what I thought,” Ernthraal said, “but there’s no doubting it. They were seen dragging the bodies in lines, and before being chased from the site, the landers were seen to have had their throats cut.”
“What lingen do you have here?” Pelathu asked.
“Some ulflings have been seen, talk of blutlings but… you know.”
“I doubt blutlings will leave their mountains,” Pelathu said.
“Is there anything the Dupsalfala want of us?”
“Just news.”
“Then they’ll have it soon from the messengers who returned from our camp. If this is all, you can return. Seeing you are Liuhtjan though, you might help the brown lander.”
“What do you want with him?”
“The dead are killing,” Ernthraal said sagely. “Our Fadrei will want to know why. We can always kill him later.”
“You want me to help him live?”
“We have our own Liuhtjan, who’s not here. It is still a day to our village. Besides, the Drusulfalnar know much about the plains medicine, but have not much use for the mountain and forest medicines.”
“There is no cure for the poison of the darneis fruit.”
“No. But one who can enter the otherness can find one lost there and bring him back.”
Pelathu nodded. “I will try, but if it is as you say, I must do it soon if there’s to be a chance. If it’s not already too late.”
They travelled to the camp where Pelathu readied for the rite.
3 - Home
On Mars
Aegorl Gesh stood by a wide river. The water was flowing freely under the orange sky. Yes, orange sky above the barren red landscape of his home planet, Mars. Outside? He looked about. He was outside and feeling Earth heavy. This couldn’t be. Outside on the Martian landscape meant death in seconds. Although his people lived there, they lived in large enclosures in which they… water?
This was a river with water. Aegorl didn’t understand. This couldn’t be the planet he’d crashed… the air started to become cold and thin. The river dried up in front of him and he started dying. He saw the pane of a settlement enclosure close by. Aegorl, though this wasn’t making any sense, ran toward it, feeling lighter as he went. He reached the pane, metre thick glass frosted by dust storms. There was an entry lock right in front of him. He found the orange triangular entry button and pressed it. A door slid open in the thick frosted glass wall and he entered. The door closed behind him and the air became fresh. The entry to the settlement opened and Aegorl walked into an overgrown grassy field. There were cattle and sheep grazing on the knee-high grass. The compound looked like one of the smaller ones he’d visited when he was a boy, a farming compound growing meat and dairy for the larger compounds further north. There should be some dwellings here. He looked about. The paddocks looked comforting as they were illuminated by the diffuse orange light. There wasn’t much by way of lighting on the ceiling, the light was mostly sunshine, and it looked like the ceiling had been frosted by dust storms too.
“No stars tonight,” he said and started walking.
He was right, there were two dwellings on the other side of the enclosure. He started for them, hoping the inhabitants were understanding. The first dwelling was abandoned. It looked like one of the olds style ranch dwellings, a familiar white box holding little more than bedrooms, six by the look. Most of the other living amenities were outside, since everything inside a settlement was tightly controlled, there was no sense walling too many things inside, just bedding and ablution.
The other building was a store and control centre. Inside was enough dried food to comfortably keep six men fed for a year. It also had a com console. Aegorl wiped some dust off the flat console on the desk and felt around for the ‘on’ button. “Hundreds of years of trying can’t reliably replace the button,” he mused as he beneath the console.
The console blinked to life, but would show no image. There was audio though.
“Who in Hades are you and what you doing on my farm?” It was a Woman’s voice, not real old but not young.
“Aegorl Gesh, and I’m sorry. I seem to have got caught outside and just made it to your compound in time.
“You stuck there?”
“Yes ma’am. I got no workable transport, except me feet.”
“You any good with agro equipment?”
“Depends what kind.”
“Irrigation.” She sounded impatient.
“Yes ma’am. I done quite a bit of work on wet systems.”
“Good.”
There was a click from one of the cool rooms to his left.
“I just unlocked a cold store. I can’t get to you for a few days. You can earn your keep by fixing the irrigation in the bottom paddock. It hasn’t been working properly since that darn river dried up.”
The river. Aegorl remembered. “Where is this place?” he asked.
“You mind your business and get that pipeline clear. I don’t have to feed you, and if I don’t, it’s not like anyone’ll notice if I feed you to the pigs.” The console went dark.
“Pipeline,” Aegorl said and started toward the stores. There were racks of piping along one of the back walls. “At least I shouldn’t have to order in,” he said.
Calling Aegorl
The pipes weren’t bad. The first thing he did was turn the sprayers on. It spooked some of the cows, but they looked like they could use some exercise. He could see where the problem was straight away. There was one join where the sprays didn’t send water. The problem was a kink in one of the joins that caused a pipe to pinch. It was probably caused by an itchy cow. It’d be a simple fix. Just replace one of the pipes, then put some barricading around to keep the animals away from the joins. Since he’d have time, he might start barricading the other joins. He began walking back to the stores, hoping the pipes weren’t heavy. For some reason, he thought he felt Earth-heavy again.
“Brown Lander!” came a voice from behind.
Aegorl turned.
“Brown Lander,” it was the palest man he’d ever seen.
“You talking to me?”
“Yes,” the pale man said. “My name is Pelathu. You must come with me.”
“Go with you where?”
“To safety. What is your name?”
“Aegorl Gesh. Why isn’t it safe here? Is it that woman?”
“Yes, it is that woman.”
“I knew she sounded unstable. Where’re we going?”
“You’re too deep here, we must head out.”
“Whoa there buddy, you don’t just walk out of a settlement compound and live. Not unless you’re walking into another.”
“That is what we will be doing, walking into another that’s safe,” the pale Pelathu said. “Where you are now is somewhere you will die. I will show you to a place that you can live.”
“Buddy, I’ve lived here on Mars for a lot of years. I got a good idea what’ll kill—”
“Aegorl Gesh, you are not at Mars.”
“Then where am I?”
“We call this place Riquisgaumise, but that isn’t important. Tell me, what is something you remember seeing this place Mardi does not have?”
Aegorl shook his head. “Rivers?”
“Like that one over there?”
The pale man pointed to his left and Aegorl looked to see a wide, winding river that hadn’t been there some seconds before. Aegorl’s head started swimming. “Where is this place?”
“Death,” Pelathu answered. “At least, it’s the doorway, and it’ll be where you remain if you don’t follow me now. You’re already too long here and since I could come to get you, it’s not where you should be just yet.”
Aegorl was too confused to argue, and now too scared to remain. He nodded to the stranger who turned and walked toward the entry lock he’d entered by. The door opened and he and the stranger walked in. The doors closed and the outer door opened. Air was sucked from the lock and the temperature plummeted. Aegorl was looking out on a barren Martian landscape and dying again.
“Brown Lander!” the stranger snapped. “Look at me now!”
Aegorl looked.
“Now see what I see.”
The air warmed and became dense again. Outside were blue skies, green plants and a stream with the tomato-like plants growing beside it.
“Eat one of these and live.”
Fear gripped Aegorl. “Aren’t these the plants that killed me?”
“No, they are the plants that will kill you if you don’t eat one now. I will explain more if you return, once you learn our language that is. For now, all you need to know is you must leave this place the way you came, and it was darkness fruit that brought you here.”
Aegorl looked again at the plants, then toward the stranger. He’d gone. Aegorl was alone.
4 - New Place
After the Trance
It was dark when Pelathu emerged from his trance. Young Nairn had been anxiously watching over him. The moment Pelathu sat up, Nairn was ready with his question. “What was it like?”
“It was like where this man is from,” Pelathu answered.
“Where is this man from?”
“Gaiahan,” Pelathu answered, leaving the youth to imagine the desolate place of torment for the evil ones who died.
“Should you have not left him there?” he asked.
“It’s what it is like, not what it is.” Pelathu smiled at the lad’s terror. “If he were really in Gaiahan, I would not have found him and if I did, I would not have returned.”
Nairn looked unconvinced.
“Is there food, or must I forage in the dark?”
“There is food.” Nairn walked off to the camp, returning with Ernthraal and a bone of faíhu with some meat on it.
“What news?” Ernthraal asked.
“His name is Aegorl Gesh, and he now must choose to live.”
The Drusulfalnar Village
Aegorl Gesh chose life, and he awoke to a land full of surprises. His first surprise was the pale man he’d met in the hallucination was real. The second surprise was there were other men with him. He wasn’t surprised that the man had companions, he was surprised that there were men on this alien world. Then there were the horses. Yes, fecking horses. Humans could have crashed here some years ago, but not the horses.
When they finally arrived at the village there was more. Dogs and cows and sheep! This must have been a colony established in the early days of space travel, but he’d never heard of a colonial transport moving livestock. The livestock also looked different. It was like the livestock he’d tended on Mars, the kind unaltered by genetic engineering, so they couldn’t be from Earth. Perhaps this was some kind of pirate settlement.
Then there was the other problem. He didn’t speak their language, and none of the natives spoke his. Although over the last four days, he’d been able to pick up more of their words than could be reasonably expected over such a short period, he still couldn’t speak with them. The best he could do was point and act out what he wanted to say and try to pick up a few words. Perhaps the greatest surprises came from the man he’d met in his hallucination. This man named Pelathu knew his name. Aegorl supposed he must have been speaking in his delirium, but that didn’t explain how he knew Pelathu’s name.
He travelled with these strange warriors to their village. On the way he’d figured they were called Drusulfalnar and were nomads on the plains south of where the Olympus had crashed. At least he assumed it was south. For all he knew this planet’s star could rise in the south and set in the north, or it might not have a magnetic field at all. No, that was stupid. There was too much outside life for there to not be one. If there was one thing the early days of the Mars settlements had taught, it was life wasn’t sustainable long term without one.
The younger warrior, apparently named Niarn, was chosen to look after him. It seemed his friend Pelathu didn’t belong to this village but was friendly with the lad’s father. He was given a skin to sleep in and a place in a tent near the family’s tent.
He couldn’t help but marvel at how Martian the name Niarn sounded. He wasn’t sure why he’d been saved and given sanctuary, perhaps it was the sound of his own name. Whatever the reason, he was tentatively grateful for it. There was no way of knowing how long he’d be welcome. At the moment he was a novelty. If he wanted to remain, he’d have to find some way to make himself useful. He had this in mind when he saw some younger boys trying to lash some poles together to mend a pen to hold some horses. There was an easier way, so he went to show them.
5 - New Home
Drusulfalnar Council
There was a commotion among the people in the camp. Pelathu, who had been staying with his friend Chavarn and his family, went out to see what the commotion was. It was Ernthraal who approached him. “The brown Landers are animals,” he said. “There will be a council to decide what to do with the one we have here. You should come.”
“Will I be welcome?” Pelathu asked.
“You know more about this one than any.” Ernthraal told him.
Pelathu agreed and went to the council tent. Inside were the other warriors, including weiganfraujan named and the Airita of the Drusulfalnar, a strong looking warrior named Brechtan. They were sitting in a semi-circle watching another warrior standing in their midst. The meeting went quiet as Pelathu and Ernthraal entered the tent. Brechtan stood. “You are the Haujanfarigune who brought the brown Lander back from the otherness?”
Pelathu nodded. “I am.”
“I am Brechtan, Airita of the Drusulfalnar.”
“I am Pelathu, Liuhtjan of the Haujanfarigune.”
The formalities over, Brechtan smiled. “How is Chavarn’s tent?”
“It is comfortable,” Pelathu answered. “Although I feel time to return to my mountains is near.”
Brechtan nodded sagely. “It has been good having you here. I have enjoyed our talks. I now must ask a task of you though, one which you may decline.”
“What is it?”
“First hear what our messenger says about the brown Landers.” He turned to the man who was standing in the semi-circle who had sat with the others. “Tell us again what you saw.”
The man stood and took his place in the circle again. “The Landers led one of theirs to an outside council. They talked and then took the man away. They then made a big square tent frame and brought the man again, this time with his head covered. They tied a rope around his neck and dangled him from the frame until he died.”
Pelathu felt the outrage in the gathering. He was as disgusted as the others. “You have been watching the burned hills?” he asked.
“We have no Liuhtjan and live where there are no findlings,” Brechtan said. “Nobody to tell us to stay away.”
“This brown Lander they killed must have committed some crime to be killed so.”
“Perhaps,” Brechtan answered. “But to send even a criminal to the otherness with such cruelty… we want to know if this is what these brown Landers are truly like.”
“And what do you want of me?”
“You have told us much of how the brown Lander lived in his home country. It is a very strange land he is from, probably across the sea. We want to know more about his people.”
Pelathu knew what he wanted but asked anyway. “How?”
“We want you to ask him.”
“Darneis fruit,” Pelathu said. “You want me to speak with him in the otherness. It could kill him.”
“If he and his people have such a cruelty, we cannot permit him to live.”
“I will do it if you allow me to prepare the potion and give it to him.”
Brechtan smiled. “We have nobody else here who could prepare the fruit.”
New Trance
Later that day, Aegorl was brought from mending the pen, to the big tent in the centre of the village. The pale man named Pelathu was there with four other natives. He would have been concerned if it weren’t for Pelathu’s presence. Still, there was a solemnity that was unnerving. He was made to sit in the middle of the tent. Pelathu made some motions like he wanted to talk. He pointed to a bowl on the ground, and Aegorl saw a tomato-like fruit and understood. He tentatively took a sip and was standing next to a broken irrigation pipe in a paddock in a settlement enclosure on Mars.
Pelathu was in a trance all of the next day until evening. He awoke to be greeted by Brechtan, Ernthraal and Chavarn in the company of four women. All seemed relieved to see him.
“He’s a good man,” Pelathu told them. “One who will be useful to you. He is experienced with keeping Faíhu. He is a member of a tribe known as Martian who travelled a very long way with members of a tribe called Earthers. His tribe is the lesser of the two. He is not with the others because he was also condemned to die.”
“What did he do?” Brechtan asked.
“Nothing, he was to die instead of the guilty man.”
Brechtan shook his head. “These are strange people. Will he live?”
“I left him with a tonic in the otherness and told him not to be long. He wants to spend a little time at his home first. When he awakes he should know something of our language.”
“How do you know that?” Brechtan asked.
“Because I now know something of his.”
“What do you suggest we do with him?”
“Teach him to ride an aihwass, give him a tend and a woman and then learn from him.” Pelathu turned to Chavarn, “I must leave once he awakes. I have stayed too long for the brown Lander’s sake. Now he will not need me, and my Fadrei need to be warned that the findlings are killing.”
“It has been good having you in my tent.”
“It had been good to have spent this time. Now, is there food?”
All laughed. “Of course.”
The three left Aegorl in the charge of the women as they went to eat. Aegorl learned many disturbing things once he repaired the irrigation pipe.
6 - New Life
Aegorl and Carsey
Aegorl remained until morning with a greater understanding of the Drusulfalnar language than when he entered the trance. More than that, he spoke with the woman whose farm he was apparently on. They spoke in her farmhouse over home-made ale once Pelathu left. They spoke late into the night on many things. She mainly wanted to warn him of an evil that was coming. When pressed, she couldn’t answer.
“Something green and very old,” was his only answer.
“Well what does it look like?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” she said. “All I know is it’ll send your sanity north of the ice-caps if you look at it.”
“I grew up on Mars and never heard that expression before.”
“Because it’s not Martian.”
No, it wouldn’t be, he thought. “Where is this place then?” he asked.
“Storms are coming soon and you’ll need to move on if you’re going to escape the evil. I don’t think I’ll see another man for three months. Spend a bit before you leave?”
It was the first time Aegorl noticed how attractive she was. He wasn’t sure if he should, there were obligations he had to fulfil if she became pregnant. Then he remembered this wasn’t real, it was some kind of drug-induced hallucination.
“I got green contraception dust if that’s what’s worrying you,” she said.
“No,” Aegorl answered. “I’m not worried about that. Of course I can.”
“That’s good. I’d prefer you let me use it. My name is Carsey,” she said as she led him to a room off to the side.
“Aegorl,” he told her as he followed. He was embarrassed he hadn’t initiated an exchange of names sooner. He woke from his trance an hour later.
Pelathu Speaks with Aegorl
Pelathu went to see Aegorl as soon as he’d eaten.
“I’m going,” Pelathu said.
“Go to what?” Aegorl asked in his new-found but still broken Drusulfalnar.
“Home, I’m not of this tribe.”
“Me too?”
“You belong here now. They’ll soon make you one of them.”
“There green old evil coming,” Aegorl said. “You know what is?”
“Green old evil?”
“Drive sane north of ice cap.”
“Where did you hear this?”
“Carsey woman in farm dome.”
“Carsey? Is that what she is?”
“No, it call… you call Pelathu, I call Aegorl, she call Carsey.”
Pelathu understood. Carsey was the woman’s name. “What is this evil called?” he asked.
“Old, green, all she say.”
Pelathu nodded. Somebody would know about this, but not the brown man. “You stay with the Drusulfalnar for now. I’ll send a messenger to see how you fit. If you don’t fit here, you’ll have a place with my people. I’ll see to it.”
Pelathu left thinking about the ‘old green evil’. It weighed on his mind as he left the tribe.
Copyright © 2015 Scott E. Douglas
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