2. Homefinder

Tuläp went on her way and traversed a herd of wooly goats to reach the village. It was already less quiet than before, the decorations were being brought out and she saw a few men hauling mud in their barrows. While she made her way between the huts of various sizes, Tuläp met the people along the way with a polite mood. Her sourness from earlier had stayed on the hill, inside her empty house. Those were all people she knew, closely or from afar. They were the entire world she had grown in.

Young children and those her age were cheerful, they waved her good morning as though it were a normal day. On the other hand, the men and women she greeted answered with solemn nods. A mixed bag after all, yet the atmosphere it created around the village allowed her to hold her head high. Near the centre of the village, one bump was considerably larger than the rest, with smaller bumps leaning on it to the point of being bundled with it.

She was headed for one of the latters. After stepping through the entrance curtain, she could pull back her hood. She shook her head to let her short hair fall into place; which was to say, in disarray. The reason she kept them short in the first place was because she couldn't be bothered to keep them neatly tied while she was on the field. And for some reason, this warranted laughter from the other people inside.

"Look who's here, the hero of the day!"

"Steeped in dignity and grit, without any milk spilled over her jacket this time."

"And without tripping over her spear."

Jokes filled the alcove along with the unretrained chuckles. Rather than spoil her mood however, it crawled its way past Tuläp's gravity and got an awkward smile out of her. Out in the open she would have hated being teased and belittled. But this building made of interconnected huts was not just for anyone to use, and the people gathered at the back of this hut were her companions. All of them wore the same brown cloak, their jeers were an invitation to come over and join them.

"I'm not quite the hero." She replied with a sly grin. There was no need for appearance here. "But if they make an embroidery or a lay for me, I'll make sure they mention all the times you skipped tutoring, drank yourself to sleep, and who owes who."

"There won't be any space left for your deeds after that!" Baud, a well-built man leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, let a out a thunderous laugh. "It's true, the main role is on someone else, but being in the second spot isn't too bad either!"

"You're looking like a true Protector, Fal Tuläp." Maleen was sitting at the low table where drinks and pieces had been set; she was beaming warmly at the young girl like a mother.

Tuläp had expected more banter. Being suddenly struck by such a genuine compliment made her mumble while her face became hotter.

Yes, they were right.

She was a Protector.

That word held a deep meaning beyond the name. For her, for them, for their tribe as a whole as far back as they could remember. This was easy to forget since daily life in the village did not call for Protectors specifically. They were trained to fight but if someone fancied a life of risk, they would become a Watcher. The latters scouted the village's surroundings, watched out for danger and ventured out to locate resources. Compared to them, Protectors didn't head out much if they weren't needed. And one didn't become a Protector of their own will either.

The child of a Protector was a Protector.

They carried the name of their clan, and they would see to it that Protectors kept existing. This system explained in part the generational gap between the members of this assembly: many of them had at least one strand of grey hair on their head and years' worth of experience in their gaze. Only three were of somewhat similar age to Tuläp, if a bit older.

Baud and Maleen were the youngest from clan Nön, but that would change soon: Maleen's belly had become very round. Once her child came into the world she wouldn't be an active Protector for a while at least, but clan Nön would have a scion. This was rejoicing for them and for the other clans – a joy they observed with some nostalgia and a few regrets. Right now though, they were a merry bunch.

"Why are all of you here?" Tuläp made her way into their group and became part of them with a few taps in the back.

"Figured it was only right. We'll be helpin' with the preparations soon, 'til then we drink in honour of Fal Tuläp." So said Bohm of clan Desi, a boy five years her elder with a square face.

"The celebration won't happen before the sun goes down, you're already showering your stomachs?" Tuläp was offered a full goblet, which she accepted with a knowing glance. But she didn't bring the amber liquid to her lips. She wasn't in the mood. "You people look like you've been warming up this spot for a while on top of that. Did you also wake up before dawn in my honour?"

"Bold of you to assume we've been sleeping!" Sitting side by side in a corner were Heelo and Kaimai of clan Mun; the two siblings had inebriate smiles showcasing their missing teeth. "If you want to have some, you'll have to hurry up!"

"I see..."

So they hadn't gotten a wink after all.

It was entirely possible they had come here one by one during the night, meanwhile Tuläp of all people had been sleeping like a log. It would have been unacceptable for the 'hero of the day' to be up partying just before the most important day of her life, they had let her rest. She was thankful and a tad vexed.

Their merry-making, even subdued by fatigue and the effect of the weak alcohol they'd been drinking, was like a hearth in this cold morning. Tuläp soaked it in for but a moment and that was enough for her to sink into that atmosphere completely. Forgotten was the nameless haunting that had dragged her out of sleep, faded was the gloom that had stuck to her like a shadow along the way. She didn't need to feel honoured, only share their enthusiasm regardless of what was lying underneath.

Today she gave meaning to their role. But their humble celebration wasn't enough to make her forget the reason for her presence.

"If you're still not snoring by the time I get back, I'll show you how much I can take."

She announced while stepping out of their crowd and toward the more silent corners of the alcove. Before she could really slip away though, someone held back her arm:

"Sure thing, but won't you make a bet before upholdin' responsabilities? You'll know from me if you won."

"Who's playing?"

"Ol' Dus!"

Her interest was piqued enough to bring her back among her peers. She leaned over the low table where pieces made of bones were laid out in a specific pattern between the two players. One side belonged to Maleen, naturally. Even if she wouldn't be tossing anyone around in sparring with her belly, she wasn't about to be dominated in a game; all the more since she had restrained from drinks unlike the rest of them. And the other Protector sitting across from her was indeed Dus. 'The Old Dus' as he was known. It was true that he was the most veteran among them, with a full mane of greyish-white slung over his shoulder to girdle his thin face. Be as it may, there was still vigor and a keen glint in his eyes, the part of youth that hadn't left him.

It wasn't doing him any favour against Maleen, unfortunately: Tuläp observed his green irises rolling from left to right over his pieces, like two apple slices on each side of a scar. The feature he was most famous for in the village was the large gash that split his visage from the brow down to the corner of his chin.

Tuläp thought it didn't fit him. What a sinister mark over a face that was otherwise nothing but gentle. Despite the respect the wound demanded, Dus had never frowned at anyone within living memory. His hand was hovering hesitantly over his side; before he could make a move, Tuläp shrugged and turned away:

"I'll bet one lemp jerky on Old Dus."

"Ah, can't you spare me this time Tuläp?" The man in question interrupted his reflection to throw a wry smile at her. "As soon as you bet on me, I lose."

"Then she must be betting on you every time!" Baud went for another round of laughter which spread around.

"She does, actually." Dus looked at his board again with the knowledge of a new factor, his own misfortune.

"You're bound to win eventually." Tuläp laughed with them and made a gesture of luck his way.

She truly had other matters to be attending, however. She left the dry sound of moving pieces behind and turned to another part of the hut, where an opening led into the next alcove. There was a smell of oil in the air but it didn't come from here; the entranceway was made to keep the stench away from the outside, on top of being a good place for proper gatherings.

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After crossing a short tunnel where Tuläp had to lean over, she came out into a dome that was more than thrice the size of the one where her friends were having their event. She couldn't imagine building something of this scale with the same techniques she used for her own home. How many people did it take to remake it every time their village moved somewhere else?

"Tano?"

Her voice reverberated through the hangar, in vain. She made her way between the towering figures covered in white fabric, turning her head occasionally in hope of finding the village's engineer. The only noise she heard was the bristling of grass at her feet; they hadn't bothered to change the floor here to dirt. As a result, all of the greenery was trampled and scrapped by the striders. That was mighty dangerous in her opinion, but since it would repair itself in time the lack of safety could be excused.

Here and there, white sheets laid flat over the ground, a sign that someone was out in the plain, or that the machine in question was lost. An unlikely situation: if it broke even a little, it would be brought back here.

Tano wasn't answering. Maybe he was still sleeping after all, the day was only beginning. Be as it may, she didn't have to wait for him either. Tuläp went around the hut and looped back to where she had entered. From here she knew exactly where to go: she made toward one figure in particular among the bulking mounds of metal.

She found it only half-covered, the cloth had been peeled back and revealed the main body along with two large, arching legs. The inactive body was lying down yet even in this position it was quite the beast, much larger than the one Mazcar used to roam around the village. Tuläp's memory of the day she had seen it first was still strong. She had been a small child then and that impression of enormity remained even though she was the only one who had gotten bigger. Besides, it was the truth: a large strider like this one wasn't brought out for leisure or for scouting. It had been waiting for an occasion to carry more than one passenger.

Its name was Homefinder. Far from the sole strider of its kind, but it belonged to Fal Tuläp, and only to her.

"Hmm..."

But it was strange for it to be bared like this. Leaving a strider in the open for a long period of time for no reason was gross negligence, she could pull Tano's ear off for it. But she knew that the old engineer wouldn't make that mistake to begin with.

The grass around Homefinder had grown thin but quite tall; in it she spotted the elongated shape of a toolbelt. She came closer to inspect her steed. A small ladder was welded into the side to help climb up to the saddle, which was built into the top of the mass of metal along with the control panel.

Despite the impression it gave, not all of this bulk was filled to the brim: when Tuläp knocked on the side of the strider a hollow echo rung out. Since there was no answer, she nimbly climbed halfway up the ladder and stretched her arm as far as she could to reach the handle. With a muffled click, a hatch unfolded from the steel belly to reveal the inside of a cargo hold. That was a place for storing food, water and equipment, yet instead of all that she found a man napping on his back.

"Tano!"

She banged her fist against the stider's skin to make a ruckus that would find him in the deepest trenches of slumber. A violent wake up call if anything, yet the engineer's eyes blinked open slowly and without alarm, as though it were a soft afternoon breeze that had plucked him out of his dreams. He mumbled something that might have been nothing more than incoherent grumbles and he stretched his shoulders.

Tuläp climbed down the ladder while Tano continued his lethargic morning routine. He was careful not to bump his head against the hold's ceiling and rubbed his back as he sat up. When he moved to the edge of the hatch, his toolbelt was brandished in front of him by a sighing Tuläp. He grabbed it with a grunt of acknowledgement and, finally, they were standing side by side in front of the old strider.

"What time is it?"

"Hour of the Fish, more or less." The sun had barely risen.

"Hmm." He patted the long beard falling over his chest, seemingly fused with his hair. "You could have let me sleep a wee bit longer."

"That's a worrying place to sleep!"

"It's wide and cozy. Hmm... I think I might've fallen asleep during maintenance. I'm so used to the feeling, you see..."

"That's not reassuring me. That's too important to doze off in the middle of it, don't you think? We absolutely need it today."

"Yes, it's important – why do you think I've spent all night double checking, triple checking and tightening screws for the fourth time?"

"Ah..."

So Tano had also spent a very long evening. It was starting to look as though Tuläp was the only one to have gotten proper sleep, even though all of this bustle was related to her more than anyone else. A twinge of guilt made her pinch her lips but Tano didn't get upset; he was detached and slowly getting through the unfathomable thoughts of his mind, as always. He had to be as much of a veteran as Dus and was showing his age more, although Tuläp was certain he had looked like that even a decade back.

Not everyone could read him and yet few were more universally trusted than him. He wasn't the only one to work in this hangar, and it was generally accepted that Watchers should know some amount of self-repair for the sake of their survival. Even so Tano was the only one they ever called an engineer among the villagers.

"She's ready, more than ever." He tapped the hull with affection and audibly sniffed. "I've been telling her it's time. She must be itching now, so don't push her too hard."

"You know I wouldn't dream of it."

His quiet passion for the machines sleeping here was contagious. Or at least, it warmed Tuläp's heart. But there was also a barely-concealed melancholy in the soul of the old man, it seeped into the air of his lair and made the silence all the deeper. Rather than dwell on that, Tuläp picked up something else and presented it to Tano.

"Here, help yourself."

She had kept her goblet from the party, not a single drop was missing from it. His bushy eyebrows rose up while inspecting the liquid amber inside and some life returned to his lethargic expression. He accepted the drink with a grumble of appreciation.

"The reservoir is full, it will last you three days at a normal pace. You'll also have four spare tanks, curtesy of my boys. As soon as you find a water source, even a dirty one, don't think twice about refilling them. To make your own..."

"I know at least that. One third water, one quarter pyrepuffs, one fifth dilla seeds and fuel waste for the rest."

"And don't use Dor grass." The old engineer rumbled. "I dunno how, some of them numbskulled kids started thinking they could cheat the recipe with Dor. Don't do that! Some weak fuel is all you're gonna get, and you will end up stranded somewhere you don't want to be. At best you could use Dor roots if you're short on water, but only if you pulled them out of the dirt yourself, and only if they're gorged from an underground stream. Good luck with that..."

"It sure would be nice if that worked. We live on mountains of Dor, we wouldn't have to worry for an eternity."

"That's why I'm saying it's stupid. Hmph." He waved his hand while taking a long sip. "You can hold enough food and water for a month at maximum capacity. She will advance even with her hold filled to the brim. But more cargo means more weight, more weight means you consume more fuel. Keep that in mind."

"'Take as much as you can, give only what you have to'..." It was something of a motto for anyone thinking of venturing beyond the safety of the village. "Hunting and collecting water is fine, but are we going to get enough supplies to even get that far?"

"Of course you are, why even ask? It's not every day that a pilgrimage happens. Any living soul in this village will pitch in if they can."

"..."

Yes, it would be the bare minimum to grant to those who would leave. Tuläp was letting her pessimism speak in her place. Of course they would have enough to eat and drink for at least a week, or else it would look like a complete farce even to the gods above. In fact, maybe Tuläp would have to refuse some offerings or else Homefinder wouldn't be able to move one iota. Even with that image in mind, the young Protector frowned.

Tano wasn't making a much brighter face. His liquid treat truly wasn't enough to chase off the atmosphere nurtured by silence and the heavy smell of oil. The alcohol spun weakly inside the goblet while his eyes had lost themselves somewhere far, yet also somewhere close: he stared at Homefinder longly. She didn't know what thought was running through his head until he sighed and groaned:

"If she hafta break, at least make it happen not too far from here. We're running low on pieces. Every year we move farther away, less and less to work with. One day they'll ask themselves why we don't have any strider that moves!"

"You'll see it again." Tuläp cut through his rant with a smile. "We depart tonight but not forever. Don't count the rising and falling of the sun and we'll be back before you know it. After all, we're travelling on a strider with the most auspicious name! Isn't that right?"

"Hmph." His face didn't change. "...I should start giving them tons of lucky names then. They disappear but we don't find new ones. Every strider you see was already here when I was born, I'd like it if they could still be here the day I'm gone. But alas..."

"..."

"This model especially, it's become so rare. I only need one hand to count them. They share the Protectors' duty, I know. I know." He tried to take another sip but his drink had become dry. He shrugged and put the goblet on the open hatch. "And among them, the striders of clan Fal have their own quirks. She's the last one, that Homefinder. Hasn't seen her sister since your brother left with her."

Tuläp remembered something like that too.

A giant of steel standing next to its spitting image, the same long legs and the arms waving from up on high. It was a busy memory, so cluttered with sounds and images that the finer details blended together, but that part was engraved in her. Just enough to recall, not so deeply that she could be certain: until Tano had mentioned it, she could have sworn that memory had been about Homefinder.

Of course, now she understood perfectly. Because she knew what the child had not. Still, she wondered about the name of the strider that had left.

"Don't abandon her if you want the name to keep its promise." Tano added these words before putting a foot on the ladder. He climbed back into the the hold with movements that seemed heavy yet perfectly precise. "Sun's still low. She can use a fifth check-up."

"I said it's important but you don't have to go that far."

She said so with a half-smile even though it was pointless. Tano was already lost in the world he was familiar with and handled his tools as if Tuläp didn't exist. With so much care, he was starting to make her feel inadequate.

Care... yes, it was better to call it so, no matter how much it looked like restlessness. Tuläp's smile faded slowly as she watched both the man and the machine, quiet work inside a quiet creature. Eventually, her face felt like a frigid mask.

She recalled the giants next to each other.

She saw the arms waving.

"I'm looking forward to ride with it, since you're blessing it so much."

She could only stand in the way if she stayed. Hence, she left Tano to spend time with the machine he had known for dozens of years longer than Tuläp had lived, and she made her way back to the entrance hall to see if the others were still lively.