Queen Mother was so angry with Drayden and Sergei that she, for all practical purposes, ignored my lapse of communication during the mission. I mean seriously, she never said a word, upped my duties, or forbade me to leave the mountain. Drayden got away with his actions based on his lack of citizenship, at least that's what he called it. He's not a rider, or has a function really, other than guest of the mountain. She's always insisted that being here at the mountain doesn't make it a prison and as long as you adhere to the security rules, then you can come and go pretty much as you please. The fact that none of those rules had been told to him, kind of let him off the hook, once.
Sergei was another story altogether. He and Queen Mother disappeared into the Castle somewhere, but you could hear the repercussions all over the mountain. Some of the riders actually wondered if they would kill each other, and Queen Mother's anger began to feel maternal. Very strange. Sergei flip-flopped back and forth between being humble and downright antagonistic. You can always tell when he's had enough, his skin starts turning red. A sure-fire indicator to maybe change the subject. Of course, no one could see him up in the Castle, but the rumblings weren't good. Volansa, his dragon, took to flying up and down the Cone to relieve her stress.
Three days later, the two of them began to avoid each other actively and quietly. That's not a natural state for either one of them.
Another oddity was when Queen Mother started disappearing to the back of the Red Grotto, with express orders not to be bothered. I haven't figured out what's back there, but nobody will talk about it, and they find reasons to be someplace else if they think you're going to ask questions.
Demi told me not to ask but divulged that the reason Queen Mother goes there is older than the dragons in this dimension. That's all she would say, but did she mean the reason is older, or what was back there is older, and if so, then what is it? Beyond the dragons in this dimension. Does that mean there are more, just not here? Once we get to this part of the conversation, she just clams up and changes the subject.
I decided to go and have a look for myself. Man, that was a bad idea. In the time it took me to get there, it looked like half the mountain had jammed themselves into the Red Grotto. They didn't exactly try to stop me, but they definitely got in the way. Once I had worked my way to the back of the grotto proper, there was a rider I had never seen before. He introduced himself to me as Ezekiel, and stated that he was a rider, like me. He is the single largest human I have ever seen at about six and a half feet tall, but proportionately should be like nine feet. Long dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. I couldn't estimate his weight if I tried. He was enormous.
His dragon is a Red Wyvern and is named Gargomel. I was instructed to turn around and proceed to the Common area. Then he smiled and said, "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. She wanted you to know this."
It sounded familiar when he said it, and over the next day or so it began to prey on my mind. I went to the Archives and typed the quote into the laptop I keep there. My Google search was rewarded with the Bible quote from Ezekiel 36:26. Man, was I confused. He can't be THAT Ezekiel, maybe just named after him, right?And who was she? She wanted me to know. Pretty obscure to say the least.
Queen Mother was gone for the better part of two days on her last trip and didn't even try to explain what she'd been doing during that time. She told me that where she had been, was not important for me to know. At least, not yet. What in the flip did that mean?
Bear in mind, I didn't ask her where she had been. I asked what she had been doing back there. Makes her answer a tad cryptic at best.
She did look a bit more rested when she got back though, and I guess that's something. She has a lot of responsibilities.
On the upside, we did get confirmation on the Crystal Key's authenticity and that makes two out of three. Let's see the Dark Lord stick that in his cigarette pack and smoke it.
I learned this morning that Bubo is being pushed forward to the next phase of his life. It's earlier than predicted, but he's pretty advanced for his age. He's now leaving Stage Three and will be taken later today to his new home in the Emerald Grotto. We're all pretty excited, and I took the liberty to order a new sleeping mat for him, complete with the neck brace cone so he can sleep better. The mountain's supply depot said they would have it delivered before Bubo went to sleep again. Same day delivery; can’t beat that.
In the next few days Demi and I will also take Bubo down to the leather manufacturing area and get him fitted for his first saddle. He's way too young to ride, but it helps the young dragons get used to the weight and feel. He's pretty excited about it, and I can't wait to see him strut his stuff with his new saddle. Once they have this piece of equipment you list their names for sled pulling, very small sleds, and it helps them with strength and endurance. The most important reason though is to teach them to walk instead of hop. The Aguiva gravitates to hopping like we gravitate to breathing, but it hinders their agility. By forcing them to walk or waddle, they gain a whole new level of strength to be able to do things like pull sleds or other things should the need arise. Hopping is good too, however, because it's the only way they learn to take off. Aguivas have a very difficult time trying to run; their bodies are just not designed for it.
Tonight, is especially important for my little Aguiva dragon, as Demi and I are going to take him flying. We thought to make it meaningful, the flight path should be the one Demi and I took on our first time in the air. The maiden flight, although I predict our landing this time will be considerably different than our first.
It was time to pick up Bubo, and as we approached, several of the Staff were waiting for us at the grotto entrance. They had walked him up the long ramp to wait for me there, and I was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Bubo was fidgety too, and I guess he was feeling it from me. I knelt down next to him and asked what he would like to do first. He told me in that little Aguiva baby voice, "Eat . . . hungry."
Our first stop was going to be the cattle pens where Bubo would pick out a cow to be slaughtered. To a dragon this was a very big deal. The techs there would take the cow and quarter it, giving Bubo the piece that he chose, at which point the dragon would tear into it and eat as much as he could hold. The rest would be given to other younger dragons like himself that had already taken their first real meal away from the Nursery. When Bubo was grown, or at least capable of eating the entire cow, he would pick his meal every time. Until then, after his first time, he would take what was ready to be consumed. Nothing wasted. It was all prime beef, nothing but the best for dragons.
From the time I first met Demi, she's eaten hers slightly seared. She refuses to eat it raw and has to take extra supplements as a result. I'm hoping, at least in this case, he doesn't take after her.
An hour later, we were walking away from the cattle pens and Bubo had eaten the better part of the quarter he’d picked. The chunk of meat looked almost as big as him, but somehow the lion's share went down his gullet.
I was notified that his sleeping mat had been delivered, so it was time to show him where he would live and introduce him to his new possessions. It was also time for him to meet Betty, our grotto Den Mother. She would become very integral in his daily life, starting with tonight.
All of these things were important, but the most important thing he would learn before the day was through was exactly, and I mean exactly, where the cat box was in relation to our living area. How long it took to get there was also important in the total scheme of things because we didn't want accidents in the living quarters, but moreover, we didn't want piles inadvertently showing up in the main corridor leading to the cat box.
I realize that by comparison, these kinds of things are ordinary and mundane, but life is made up of a lot of them, and without these bits of boring, my life would be nothing but stressful and at times horrific.
Tomorrow morning I'll have to take Bubo to the Medical Area and let them do the last series of tests for one full year. That's assuming, of course, he passes all the scans, skin biopsies, x-rays, and whatever else they throw at him. I'm sure he'll be fine; I know this is merely a formality.
As we walked up to the entrance of the Emerald Grotto, Betty was waiting for us with a huge smile on her face. She watched Bubo exclusively as if we weren't even there. My little dragon waddled up to her and turned his head sideways to get a better look and uttered his usual greeting.
"Bubo."
Betty, placing her hands on her hips, glanced only for a second at Demi and me before giving Bubo her full attention.
"Yes, I'm sure you are. Come with me little man and let me show you around."
She waved us off as if knowing we would just get in the way and wandered into the Main Corridor with my baby Black and Grey. Demi and I stood there for a moment and then trailed in after them on the way to our area. Bubo acted totally at ease with her and waddled along at his usual speed, very, very, slow.
An hour later, Betty and Bubo, now fast friends, sidled into our area. Betty explained to us that she had impressed upon the newest dragon in the Emerald Grotto everything he needed to know, and that he now had a strong grasp on what was expected of him. She saw no problems with his presence and felt he would make a good addition to the Emerald family. I had to stifle a laugh at her antics, but I think Bubo bought into the hype and seemed secure with his new Den Mom. I've got to hand it to her; she's really good with kids, at all ages and species.
I had moved Bubo's sleeping mat a tad closer to Demi's and mine while he was taking the tour of the grotto. He didn't question its location and seemed happy with the placement of his bowling ball. I also had the Drago Stewards bring him his own Holder of Things, and he got very excited when he opened it and found cherry candy. Queen Mother had told me earlier that she would come and tuck him in on his first night in the grotto. That's a nice touch.
The rest of the night was quiet and serene. We never heard anything on either side of the grotto's entrance, and my dragons slept hard. I laid there on our sleeping mat and listened to the breathing of the two, grateful for nights like these. Trust me, they are not that common.I've learned to enjoy them to the fullest when they happen.
We were awakened by the trumpeting of a very large dragon, low and throaty, most definitely on the desperate side. We hurriedly dressed and ran toward Commons, to find that a lot of people had done the same.
A very large, male, Harlequin Dragon was standing on the Wheel, swaying back and forth like some kind of reptilian dancer. A young girl was approaching the center of Commons one step at a time and giving the appearance of massive amounts of fear. Each foot dragged itself inexorably to the waiting dragon that was already showing signs of impatience. I had a weird feeling about this girl, a tingling telling me that what I was watching wasn't the real her. It was almost as if she wanted everyone to see the subcompact car that at the surface level was there for everyone to witness. Underneath however, there was a Lamborghini pawing at the ground trying to get out. This girl's inner conflict was tangible and easily seen by everyone but her. A strange mixture of introvert and extrovert at the same time.
Gypsy, the Section Leader of the Harlequin Grotto, was standing off to one side with an expectant look on her face. Next to Gypsy was her dragon, Calypso, a gorgeous female Harlequin standing as still as her rider. Just watching the Section Leader told me everything I needed to know. She was waiting for something out of the ordinary, something unique. I knew virtually nothing about the dragon in question, other than he was a whopper and didn't get out of the grotto much. At the moment, he was displaying every sign of impatience I had ever seen in a dragon. Definitely not a good sign, but it did show a need on the dragon's part that spoke volumes. The newcomer began to slow down as she approached the somewhat emotional dragon, until her progress simply stopped.
Then it got so quiet you could have heard your own heartbeat. Nobody moved, and that included both the newcomer and the male Harlequin. The seconds dragged on until I was beginning to wonder if either one or both might be having second thoughts.
The silence was shattered by the movement of the dragon as he lunged forward. His progress ceased just inches away from the girl’s face, and then he roared. It was so intense the girl’s hair billowed toward the back of her head, and then after a few seconds the dragon pulled back . . . and the girl fainted. Throughout the movement, the roaring and the dragon pulling back, the girl never budged and never made a sound, not that you could have heard it anyway.
The male Harlequin stood there for a moment and then morphed into human form. He walked over to the girl, considered her with that head cocked over to one side posture, and then knelt down next to her. Sliding his arms under her seemed fluid and effortless. Then he stood, and only then, did he look around at the people watching. The look on his face showed the disapproval of us even being there. He turned and slowly, methodically walked in the direction of the Harlequin Grotto. He never changed speeds or direction and eventually disappeared into the cavern that this unusual dragon called home.
I don't know about anyone else, but I was stunned. There have been many impressions here at Mt. Drago, but none, at least that I had seen, that did what this one did. It was odd even among the odd ones.
We learned the girls name was Janet Darling, and she came from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Standing five feet five inches, brown hair and eyes, she was not a big girl. The most notable thing about Janet was that there weren't any notable things, at least not visible. She was the girl who wasn't there at the party, the one you never saw at the shopping mall, the wall flower that disappeared into the woodwork until she was all but gone. Her hair was neither short nor long, but somewhere in between that defied description. It was obvious she put herself together to avoid anyone actually noticing her.
Her dragon, on the other hand, was so unlike her that it was almost comical. It didn't take a Ouija Board to know he was an alpha male and someone to be reckoned with. He was aggressive, and in the Harlequin world, perfect. In human form he stood about six feet tall, long dark brown hair, and intensely brown eyes. His outfit was a tan and brown flight suit that, quite frankly, made me smile. He was the dragon, not the rider, and it said volumes about what he thought of himself. His name, Vereor Obscurum, which translated to English, means to fear the darkness. Now in all honesty, I didn't know if he was afraid of the darkness or believed he was the darkness. I guess time will tell which is which.
There is also a certain modicum of curiosity concerning the well being of the rider, Janet, too. Like, how much time will elapse before we see her again? We are talking about the Harlequin Grotto, and I don't really know a lot about those guys. They're rumored to be a bunch of tree huggers, but you know how rumors go.Yeah, that's why they're called rumors.
Well, I didn't know about anybody else, but I wanted a cup of coffee and a bath. Demi and Bubo agreed, so the Ugly Duckling was to be the first stop and then on to the river.
It's too long a walk to the river for Bubo, so I contacted Sean, the leader of the Drago Clan. While we procured coffee, he checked out an electric cart from the Motor Pool and drove it down to the Pub. Attached to the back of the cart was one of the anti-gravity sleds. These were a gift from Nata, the mountain's token Lunarian, and were used all over the mountain daily. This was one of those times. Sean presented the cart to me and said to take it back to the motor pool when we were finished. He was going to the Ugly Duckling for breakfast, and he would see us later.
I put the ramp down to the floor and Bubo waddled up and made himself comfortable. Demi morphed into human form and climbed into the passenger seat, while I folded the ramp back into place. Next stop, the river. I had a lot on my mind, and maybe the cold water would jog the old Machinist brain into gear and supply some much needed answers.
The trip to the river was pleasant and uneventful. Turning onto the ramp leading to the shoreline told me it was also going to be almost devoid of other people. Today that was fine by me, a bit quieter and a lot more serene. Bubo started honking, his excitement totally uncontainable. He also began bobbing up and down in anticipation of playing in the water.
I drove the cart as close as I could and then helped Bubo down. Demi immediately morphed into dragon form and ran toward the water, with Bubo waddling along behind.
Over the next hour I reviewed everything I had learned recently and attempted to make it make sense.
1. In what capacity did Queen Mother know Sergei?
2. What was it at the back of the Red Grotto?
3. If the Dark Lord is so powerful, then why did he give up so easily?
4. Why would the Dark Lord care if Queen Mother was reasonable?
5. In what capacity did Queen Mother know Drayden?
6. Why does Queen Mother glow when she fights in combat?
There are some things about myself that have just recently begun to bother me as well. I didn't even remember to be bothered for a long time. It was like some part of me wouldn't allow it to become an issue. I know that in the past I have been something less than a good man. Having said that, then why can't I remember very much of it, and should I be trying to? What if I remember and don't like what I am?
Everything prior to meeting The Ariella is sketchy at best, and when I try to remember more, my head hurts and I forget to try and remember anything. And finally, why is it bothering me now? What changed and why?
I have determined that it feels like I remember everything until I attempt to isolate a particular time, and then my attention span wavers. Right before I stop thinking about it, the entire scenario quickly fades away. I just never thought about it in that way before, or I simply don't remember that either. Even now, I'm beginning to get brain strain and the urge to do something else.
Demi came over to where I was sitting and gazed at me in an odd sort of way. I patted her left foreleg and chuckled.
"Don't worry little Emerald Dragon, I could never forget you. Not possible."
It does however make me wonder what I have forgotten, and if I'll ever get it back. Perhaps by the fact that I'm asking, it may be time for the memories to return.
All good things must come to an end, and our time at the river proved to be no different. Demi wound up taking Bubo back to the Emerald Grotto, and I made my way to the Castle to have a chat with Queen Mother. She called for me, and I'm hoping it's about the two new worlds. We haven't heard anything since the whopping bad news. I doubt those worlds can dish out more than Walter and I can withstand.
Queen Mother was on the Veranda when I arrived, charts, graphs, and various photographs of planet 367 on the conference table.
“Tanis, thank you for coming. We've compiled all the information on the two worlds, cross referenced as much as we can, and the big question is . . . how did the Fae survive on 367? How did they adapt to an area which, on a scale of one to ten, is an eleven in hostility? I can't make myself believe they can do something we can't. So . . . I need you to go talk to them. They're not strong enough to hurt you and we need this information bad. Now I know they aren't your favorite folks, and God knows I agree with you, but . . ."
She's right about one thing, sticks and stones are the highest level that the Fae have ever achieved. They can't do much to the armor, but if that's true, then how did they manage to survive? I've been itching to visit 367 again and this is my chance to at least explore one of the worlds with her blessings. It isn't perfect, but it could be worse.
"You do realize that once I open up a dialogue with them, and that's assuming they want to talk, they'll be at your doorstep next. Are you sure it's a good idea to have them here at the mountain? How much are you willing to lose?"
She had that stern look on her face, the one she patented years ago.
"I don't want to lose anything, and if we're careful, we don't necessarily have to."
It was that point in the conversation when the Déjà vu struck me. My dealings with the Fae were in previous lifetimes, and up until a few seconds ago, I couldn't have told you what they were. Now, it was all coming back with a vengeance. If we're careful . . . there's not that much careful in the Universe. They hate us and I don't blame them. We were like blight on the butt of faery kind, and twenty-five hundred years ago they had finally decided to eradicate us. They lost, and that's where the whole hatred thing became supercharged. Even worse, several offshoots of their own culture fought against them as well - the Elves and the Sidhe. Nobody's really sure where those cultures are either, unless Queen Mother knows that too. She hasn't volunteered any info on them, yet. I kinda feel like I'm not supposed to ask.
What I wanted to do was explore 267, discover new species, and fly through empty skies. What I got was 367 and negotiations with a species that hates everything that makes me, me. Well, you don't always get what you want. In this case I get what she needs. Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky, and they'll have forgotten me.
"You lose nothing by sending me back to 267. I could spend time there until I figure out how to outdo the local problems, so to speak. At least by doing that, I can focus on the solution instead of just how to survive the moment. Isn't that what your away teams were doing? Maybe that's why they didn't succeed. It’s worth a shot, right?"
She actually looked like there was a part of her considering my suggestion. Then her eyes cleared, and the moment passed.
"No, you need to go to 367."
See, that's the part about working with your significant other who happens to be your boss, somewhere in the negotiations it stops being a potential two-way driven solution and becomes an order. Any other response beyond, "Yes, Queen Mother" is simply counterproductive. I consider myself to be a fairly reasonable man, so I smiled and nodded my head.
"Yes, Queen Mother, when do I need to leave?"
"Go say goodbye to your dragons; you take off in an hour."
It isn't that I don't understand because I do. People have already lost their lives because of these two planets. I have the ability to ferret out the solution without the loss of any more lives. It's a tough call for her, and I was a bit singularly minded going into the meeting. This isn't the Tanis show, and I need to keep that part squarely in focus. This is not about what I want, this time it's about what everyone else needs.
Demi was resigned, but envious because she couldn't go. Bubo was busy and couldn't be bothered, which was a blessing in disguise, but I knew the longer it took to leave, the more likely it would be to get emotional. Bubo is young, not stupid.
Checking in with Betty seemed prudent before leaving, and I explained how long the mission was likely to last, as in days not hours. She promised to keep an eye on my two and try to curtail any inappropriate activities. I tried to keep a straight face when she said that, because I've watched my dragons very closely. Bubo is too young to get into trouble and Demi is too young to stay out of it. Trust me, young is a very broad term.
Having discharged all of the domestic necessities, I headed for the Northern Terrace. Understand, I had mixed emotions about this mission, and both sides of my mental equation were of equal stature. One part was ecstatic about flying through virgin territory; the other was dreading the encounter with the Fae. They were vindictive, at least they had been when I saw them last. Now admittedly that was a very long time ago, but they were extremely long lived and had memories like elephants.
Top all that with an almost terminal hatred for technology, and what do you have? That's right, the Fae. So, I, a Machinist, am being sent into downtown Fae Central to negotiate an understanding with the most backward people in the known universe, who have a real hatred for anyone who thinks and feels differently than themselves. Piece of cake, so what should I do after dinner?
I'm safe from them as long as I keep the suit on and powered up, so why worry? Because you know that'll be the first thing that they demand I take down before they do anything about well, anything. I know this because it's what I would do if the situation were reversed. If they become hostile, I'll simply put it back on, and under worst case scenario, fly away.
I stopped before activating the suit and took one last look at the opening to the Emerald Grotto. It was better when I hadn't remembered. Memory isn't all it's cracked up to be, and now I remembered why I had originally wanted to forget. It hurts.
It was strangely empty in the Commons, and I left with an even stranger feeling than the fact that it was depopulated today. It didn't take long to reach the far Corridor and I shot down, angling towards the Gate Room. The suit is pretty noisy, and I could see people farther down the corridor moving over to one side. I guess it was in case I lost control and crashed before I got where I was going. Paranoia is a wonderful thing in small quantities, and best performed where people can't see it. Needless to say, I wasn't in the best of moods.
I landed in the foyer area and walked back to the Main Gate in time to see the techs winding up the massive coils. The Gates never cease to amaze me, and I was actually excited to go through again. It helped me to capture what was left of my good mood
I would come out in the Southwest quadrant of the North American continent, or that planet’s version of the area. The techs gave me the go ahead and I stepped over the event horizon. The local environment looked the same as before and passing through affected me the same as the first time.
The Gate began winding down behind me, and I waited for the phenomenon to stop before taking my initial step forward. The Gate would open every day for fifteen minutes at exactly the same time as today. I checked my onboard timer and started to take my first step. This time turned out to be different, and a large buffalo-ish creature ran into me at a full gallop. Increasing your weight when entering a potentially hostile environment is never a bad idea, and the big hairy beast bounced off of me and fell down. It shook its head and attempted to get up. One dragon sized dart later, it lay back down and didn't budge again. I could hear other sounds in the jungle brush, but they remained where they were.
Walter gave me the surroundings in a series of screens across my helmet's visor, and there were literally dozens of animal species around us, all closing in slowly. I got the idea that preceding away teams into the area had inadvertently brought the wildlife into a higher level of aggression. I probably looked like the newest version of an imported snack. Time to change locations, no junk food Tanis tots today.
First stop would be five thousand feet, to give me a better look around on my way to this world’s version of Western Europe. The air here is dense and thick with oxygen; rain comes, and then goes on a regular basis as the ecology corrects itself from moment to moment. There are no pollutants, no technological intrusions, other than me, and the range of vision is remarkable.
I am being followed by what appears to be a cross between an albatross and an eagle. It is massive and unafraid. Behind it are about thirty more just like it, and from the effort they are producing trying to catch me, I'd say they're hungry. Their curiosity seems to be outweighing their hunger, but I don't doubt their ferocity. Walter and I elected to outrun them, and within a couple minutes they gave up the chase. I guess each intruder gets one visit before the indigenous population turns on them. How can a place this beautiful have become so deadly?
It occurred to me that as I flew, different species were beginning to move into the path I followed. They knew I was coming and were showing themselves before I got there. Herds of different animals on the ground were mimicking my trajectory, as if waiting for something else to take me down so they could fight over the body. Even my thoughts were starting to bother me, and I believed they were being altered by the local flora, fauna, or both. Walter flushed the internal environment with nitrogen and turned up the amount of ozone I was breathing. The feeling went away, and my thoughts cleared. I hadn't been thinking clearly for several minutes, and Walter was blinking red lights across my visor and sounding a distress beacon noise through the speakers mounted inside my helmet.
"Tanis, none of this should be possible and certainly didn't happen on our first visit. I believe we are in danger and should abort the mission."
He sounded frantic and that wasn't like him at all.
"I can smell the ozone and it gives me something to think about. We'll be fine now. Whatever it is can permeate through metal joints, and that makes it dangerous, granted, but I think we can outdo it by changing the internal atmosphere periodically. That's a lot of birds. Take us up another five thousand feet."
The sky was suddenly full of birds, and I don't mean like sparrows or even crows. These were like the size of condors on steroids, and they were attempting to follow us up. Out flying them wasn't really all that difficult, and Walter and I noticed that the higher we flew, the less affect the environment had on us. A very decent discovery, I'd say.
At ten thousand feet, the entire population of aviary menace was circling below us, totally ineffectual and harmless. If ten thousand is good then fifty is better, and every species seemed to lose contact with us and dispersed. We increased our speed and kept our target on the screen, each mile bringing us closer to the Fae.
We broke the sound barrier several times as what I took to be the Atlantic Ocean passed underneath us. What seemed like the longest flight in history, finally ended at the coastline of what we would call Europe. Walter cut the speed down to sub-sonic and we dropped down to ten thousand feet to see what kind of company it would evoke. I was delighted to find that our trip here preceded any idea of our presence. I knew the knowledge of our existence would catch up, but for the time being the locals hadn't figured who or what we were. Perhaps it was like whale song and permeated the air waves that perpetually circled the planet.
An hour later, I spotted the first of the Fae tending to fields and harvesting crops. Some of them were placing large sacks into wagons that I assumed were to be taken to the nearest dwelling, which was about a mile east of my position.
I dropped in altitude to five thousand feet, noting that the locals had picked up on the noise that the suit made while hovering. Their attitude changed drastically, and as one, they took off for the buildings in the distance. Walter and I drifted in the same direction, watching to see what they'd do next. I decided to further cut the distance to the ground by half, and by the time we had made it to the farm, we were down to about a hundred feet above the roof lines.
From this distance they appeared to be between four and five feet tall, respectively. All of them had long hair, which collectively was a medium green. Their skin was a very pale, greenish champagne, and actually offset their hair quite well. Their ears were like the Elves, or at least the ones I've seen in pictures, pointed at the top and tucked closely to the sides of their heads. The females were slightly smaller than the males, had longer hair, and were visibly more frail. These were Faery Folk, and I knew this because they also had see-through butterfly style wings that seemed to flutter constantly, although I couldn't be sure why. They didn't look flight worthy, too small and flimsy. None of them wore shirts or tops, and it was probably to accommodate the gossamer wings that grew out of their upper backs. It also made it easy to see which were male or female. The wings seemed to change color depending on the amount of sun and which direction the light originated.
The females went into the main dwelling and the males brandished spears at me. Figures, human nature whether it be Fae or full blood human being, starts off with hostility first and God knows what later. The males were also yelling at me in a language Walter identified as a mixture of Gaelic and Dutch, neither of which were pure enough to use. We decided that care should be applied, due to possible syntax issues. We don't want to insult these people in our haste to communicate. They looked hostile enough as it was. We chose English, in the hope that its memory from Scotland as a secondary language would create a bridge between cultures. That was twenty-five hundred years ago, give or take, assuming these were the same people. Well, it sounded good when I thought it anyway. If nothing else, it gave us a place to start.
Two of the men threw spears at me while the rest shot at me with bows and arrows. Charming, I hadn't even had time to speak, and they were already trying to kill me. All the weapons bounced off and it got really quiet. Now was my chance to make a good first impression. I was taught early on that you never get a second chance to make a good first impression, so if this was my second chance, then I'm cooked.
I landed in the area directly in front of the main dwelling and turned off the booster rockets. Then it really got quiet, like you could hear a pin drop quiet, and I held out my right hand in what I hoped was a show of friendship. I also increased the weight of the suit to just slightly over five thousand pounds. Getting knocked down by a bunch of primitive Faeries was way too embarrassing to even think about.
The silence was replaced by all of them talking and a general feeling of impending disaster. Several of them were pointing, and Walter's voice broke through the noise with three new screens and some good sound advice.
"Tanis, those are rhinos approaching and they do not look friendly. If we stay on the ground, I suggest increasing our weight two-fold. If you want to take off, then my first recommendation is null and void, but we've got to do one or the other quickly."
I didn't want to leave, we just got here, and it also gave Walter and me the ability to show these people that we were to be taken seriously. I needed to show them we weren't afraid.
The weird thing was . . . no one moved. You'd think they would run for cover or at least get behind something. There was a rather large opening in between some of the men on that side of the yard, and that opening led inexorably to me, but if any of the large animals strayed off course, some of the Faeries could get trampled as well. None of the men moved but it was apparent they wanted me to, and their yells were all directed at me.
The herd stopped short of the first Faery, while the Alpha leader continued at speed. It/he rammed me at about twenty miles per hour and his progress simply stopped. The animal was unconscious before it hit the ground. I didn't move, not a muscle, but inside the helmet I watched as the incident sunk into those who stood around me. This seems to be a common thread among the larger animal species here, ram it and trample. The Faery closest to me moved quickly to the animal and cut its throat with a long sickle blade. Walter had identified the creature as a rhino, but at close proximity you could tell there was no armor plating. A thick hide perhaps, and there was a rather enormous horn sticking off the front of its brow, but the animal I had seen at zoos and in photos was not the same animal now dead at my feet.
The rest of the herd began slowly ambling toward their fallen Alpha, and as they did, the Faery men moved away from the corpse and motioned me to do the same.
The other rhinos milled about the downed creature for only a matter of moments before they consumed it. The biggest went first, and then by size and age the rest dined, until thirty minutes later it was gone except for bones. The smell of meat took precedence over their need to attack me, at least for now.
Toward the end of this rhino feast, the Fae men ushered me into what turned out to be a barn. Inside there were farm tools, a couple of wagons, and what I took to be horses. Trust me, it wasn't like any horses I'd ever seen, but the overall shape was similar. Well, similar if you could breed a horse with a Moose.
It wasn't that I ignored these men during the feeding frenzy; it's just that I wanted to keep an eye open for a hasty retreat in case the rhinos changed their mind about trying to eat me. My hosts seemed uninterested and somewhat lackadaisical about their proximity to raging beasts, but hey, they've lived here a long time and know the score.
Now that all the excitement was over, I thought perhaps they might be receptive to answering a few questions. Just as soon as we figured out how to get around the language barrier, that is.
"Greetings. My name is Tanis, and I would like to talk with your leader, whoever he or she is. Do you think it might be possible to have you guys take me wherever that might be? Uh, soon? Please? Do any of you speak English?"
Okay, okay . . . so diplomacy isn't my middle name. I never claimed to be Mr. Diplomat, unless of course it involved blowing something up or destroying big things with a rocket. I am a Machinist and a soldier.
They looked at me like I had two heads and acknowledged absolutely nothing. Perfect. At least they didn't act angry, and that's a plus, right? There had to have been a door on the far side of the structure, although I didn't see one, because a female voice spoke to me from behind, and in English. Broken English, but English none the less.
"I am called Dina. Are you man or machine? I once saw things like you in Gran's Grimoire. What do you want?"
I followed the questions no problem, but there was a sneaking suspicion creeping up in the back of my mind about Dina's knowledge of men and machines. Like a hint, only less. I couldn't tell how old she was, although she looked about sixteen. Then again, they all looked like they were sixteen and I knew that couldn't be right. Not to mention, when have you ever seen an old Faerie?
"I'm just a man . . . inside a machine. It's what protects me. Can you take me to your Gran? I'd like to see her Grimoire, if possible. Did she teach you my language?"
The girl/woman, Dina, acted dubious about my questions. Not that I could blame her. A man shaped machine drops out of the sky and immediately causes trouble and wants information from you that might be construed as highly sensitive material. I wouldn't do what I asked if I was her. So, I wasn't really all that hopeful.
"You speak the tongue of Hoomans? Dust of the Devil, dust of spirit sky, dust of Evil and Hoomans lie. You have to come with me now. Gran won't be happy."
She snapped her finger and all the men in the barn brandished their weapons again. Jeez, they didn't learn the first time? I need to speak with this Gran person anyway because she sounds like the Matriarch in charge. I'll play along with their security precautions for awhile.
Then, without ceremony, they placed what looked like a rain poncho over me that hung all the way to the ground. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure it was just a tarp with a hole cut in the middle. It covered me completely, and I was beginning to formulate a theory about this place. Just for the record, the poncho smelled bad, but it had the same smell as every person I had come into contact with so far. Apparently, bathing was not real high on the priority list in this part of the world. I had a feeling it wasn't popular anywhere.
Once outside, I was urged to climb into one of the wagons. I mulled over how much weight the creaky old conveyance could carry and came up with about a thousand pounds. Bear in mind, that would be spread out among ten people, and I'm assuming the maximum number of folks were going. I adjusted the suit’s weight to two hundred pounds and climbed on. It creaked and moaned under my weight, but it held.
As it turned out, only six Faeries went along, not counting the one who drove. The weird horse/moose didn't seem to have any trouble pulling the wagon and it looked bored. A strange reaction for an animal living in an environment that was predatory and hostile. But then again, since my arrival on this planet, I have been the only sentient being hunted. I'm not used to being the prey, and neither are the people that occupy this land it would seem.