The healer insisted I accompany him back to his hovel. Proctor didn’t seem against the idea, and so we agreed to go. Trevor decided to tag along. Given what had happened between me and these men before, I welcomed his presence. Couldn’t help but wonder if this supposed healer was walking us into some kind of ambush. Entirely plausible.

His double long hut was located in roughly the same area as most other residences, in the north east near the remaining thickets of trees. We’d spent an hour or so walking there, and not a lot of conversation was had, which didn’t do much to calm my nerves.

When we arrived at the man’s dwelling, my eyes were peeled for any sign of a trap. I think Trevor and Proctor were both on the same wave length as me, but they gave no indication anything was amiss as we approached the man’s doorway.

We let the old healer enter his home first. Proctor followed him in, and I was right behind. Trevor had to wait outside, and he told me he’d keep watch.

One thing that struck me inside the man’s hut was the mugginess of the air. It was downright steamy beneath his thatched roof. And, the stink. Yikes. As soon as I walked into the dank den a wall of body odor smacked into me. But, it was more than body odor, it was also a distinct tangy taste hanging on the air. I could only attribute the smell to open wounds.

Sure enough, the old man led us to three men laying on furs along one wall. One man was half propped against a smooth stone leaned against the hut’s wall. His eyes were glassy, and sweat poured from his hair line. He had his lower leg wrapped in linen, tinged pink from blood and pus. When he saw us, he moaned.

“You’ve broken his leg,” Sedgewick the healer said. “Now look at this.”

He ushered to the next man over. He laid on his left side with his eyes closed. He twitched when the healer gently poked his foot.

“This man may never walk,” Sedgewick said. “Horrific injury.”

I could see his ankle wrapped. A lot of dried blood.

The third man was almost entirely covered in furs. His eyes were also closed, and his breathing was rapid and shallow.

“He will not survive another night, I’m afraid,” Sedgewick said. “Not without you.”

It’s true, these men were in sorry shape. Alright, that’s an understatement. Without modern medicine, it was obvious these men were doomed. I didn’t envy them, yet at the same time it was hard to feel sympathy.

“What do you expect me to do?” I asked Sedgewick.

“Make it right, of course,” said the healer.

“Make what right?” I said. “These men attacked me.”

“Says you,” Sedgewick said.

“Yes, says me. Look, if you brought me here to try and make me feel guilty, you’ve got me all wrong,” I said. “These men got what was coming to them.”

“How awful,” Sedgewick said. “You are an unkind person.”

“I’m sorry, were you there?” I said. “Did you see any of what happened?”

My voice had gotten pretty loud, and Proctor stepped in between me and the annoying old man.

“This isn’t helping anything,” Proctor said. “You brought us here to show us these men. But, I’m still uncertain what it is you think we can do, or rather, what Adam can do.”

“He’s a witch,” Sedgewick said. “He must make this right. I cannot help them. They are beyond my help.”

“I’m not a witch,” I said. “I-”

Before I could utter another syllable I was met with text in my face.

[GREETINGS HUMAN:

This is the System speaking.

This is a notice of intervention.]

I read the message to Proctor. Sedgewick stood with a scowl on his face, hands on his hips. He had no clue what I was talking about.

[Please be aware, human: We will not make this service available on a regular basis, if we offer it again at all.

Soon you will receive a curing nectar. If you choose to do so, you will apply this nectar to the injured humans in your midst. The nectar will return them to good health.

NOTE: If you do choose to apply this nectar to these beings, you are agreeing by decree of the System to add them - under contract - as players on your ball team effective immediately.

Thank you, and have a pleasant day.]

Unreal.

Proctor’s eyebrows were raised. Not often I’d see him appear so surprised.

“What do you propose?” Proctor said.

“Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice,” I said. “I’ll admit I’m tempted to let them… well… you know.”

Proctor pursed his lips. “I don’t think you want to do that,” he said. “If you have the capacity to heal them, I’d imagine you would do it. It’s more aligned with your ethics.”

Part of me wanted to laugh at that assertion, but deep down, admittedly, Proctor was probably right. His most annoying trait… almost always being right.

“What is the meaning of these words you speak?” Sedgewick said. “Are you going to help these poor men or not?”

I wanted the satisfaction of saying ‘no’ to this whiner, but I also knew I’d feel irredeemingly guilty if I didn’t help heal them when I’d had the ability.

“Hey!” I heard Trevor shout from outside. “Hey you! Stop!”

The three of us ducked outside the healer’s hut. We saw the giant holding his hand out to a cloaked figure whose face was obscured by a mask, and black hood. The figure’s dark rags flowed with the wind. They carried a clear flask topped with a cork. The glass container was half full of blue liquid.

The cloaked person didn’t speak. They were thirty feet from Sedgewick’s home, and Trevor would not let them come any closer.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“What do you want?” Sedgewick shouted to the person.

In response, they slowly bent at the knees, and sat the flask on the muddy trail at their feet. Before Trevor could even react, the cloaked figure spun around, and ran in the opposite direction. They quickly approached a crest, and began disappearing from view.

“Should I go after them?” Trevor asked.

“No,” I said. “Don’t bother. I know what’s happening. They’re not looking to cause harm.”

I walked over, and retrieved the flask.

“You wanted witch craft,” I said to the healer. “You’re about to get it.”

Back inside the steamy, stinky hut, and with Sedgewick’s help, I fed each of the dying men a third of the blue nectar.

“How long is the process?” Sedgewick said.

“It’s my understanding this will be quick,” I said. “Let’s go over here.”

We moved away from the patients, and watched them from the opposite wall. I was expecting them to sputter, and burst forth like zombies, so standing a short distance away, and near the door, made sense.

Instead, each of the men came around like a bear leaving hibernation. They stirred, scratched, then slowly sat forward, bleary eyed, confused.

“What is this?” One of the young men said. “What’s happened to me?”

Then he caught sight of me by the door.

“No!” He shouted. And, he alarmed the other two, shaking them out of their grogginess.

“Get him out!” Yelled another of the men.

“Please, gents,” Sedgewick said. “Please calm yourselves. You will worsen your wounds.”

But, the young men pulled at the linens about them. They quickly discovered there were no wounds to be found.

“How can this be?” Said one of the men.

Sedgewick pointed at me.

“Thank him,” the healer said. “He’s brought you back from death’s door.”

Each of the men regarded me with curled lips, and squinting eyes.

“He who tried to murder us?” Said the middle of the three men. “Why would you help in this way?”

“Don’t question it,” I said. “Just know that I have the power to do it. Yes?”

“What do you want?” Asked the third man over. “Name your price. I cannot be in your debt.”

“Nor I,” agreed another.

I shook my head, and let out a long breath. “Strange as this is going to sound,” I said. “I want your services.”

“What did you say?” One of the men said, anger in his tone. “You want services from us? You must be mad if you think we want anything to do with you.”

“Hey, you attacked me, remember?”

Then I caught a glimpse of Proctor, shaking his head, looking right at me.

I calmed my tone.

“I want you, each of you, to be players on my baseball team,” I said, hardly believing what I was doing. Not that I had much of a choice.

This caused all three of them to laugh.

“So, you are mad after all,” said one of them.

“Now, now,” Sedgewick said. “Hear him out lads. You wouldn’t the way you are now were it not for his magic.”

“How do we know you won’t do this to us again?” Asked one of them.

“How do I know I can trust you won’t ambush me again?” I said. “It works both ways.”

“We don’t know of your base ball,” one man said.

“I will teach you.”

“And, we get currency?”

“You will be paid in gold, correct,” I said.

This gave them pause. They sat their shaking their heads for a few moments, I’m sure trying to make sense of the whole situation.

I didn’t want to, but I shook each of their hands, and we had an agreement. I told the men to report to the field area in a few days. Whether or not they actually would, well that’d remain to be seen. What the System would do if they didn’t show up? Anyone’s guess.

Sedgewick was also pleased, but I didn’t give him much the time of day when we left. I’d hoped never to have to deal with the man again. But, Moonlight was small, so I could never rule it out.

Proctor, Trevor, and I walked back to the southwest, to the ball park site, to the spot where my home would hopefully soon be completed from the shipping container.

“What position do you suppose they’d play?” I asked Proctor, referring to our newest contractees.

“You’ll figure it out after you run a few practices,” Proctor said.

“You know they’re Quallons, yes?” Trevor said. “They are known cannibals.”

“Yes,” I said. “Dillard’s mentioned it more than once.”

“Why would you bring them in as part of your team? Our team?” Trevor said.

I liked that the giant considered the team ‘his’ even if he didn’t qualify as a ball player himself. I wanted the villagers to take some form of ownership over the fate of the franchise.

“It’s something he had to do,” Proctor informed. “Part of an arrangement with the System.”

“I don’t think I like the System very much,” Trevor said.

Yikes. I winced when he said it, wondering if we’d be immediately struck by lightning. Luckily, no bolts came.

When we arrived back at the park site, a pleasant surprise waited for us.

A stocky man stood near his horse drawn wagon in front of the soda machine.

It was Lorne, the village’s foremost cultivator. This was the man Proctor had learned from Moonlighters would be our best opportunity to grow proper ball field grass. I was pretty sure it’d been more than a week since we’d broached the subject, and here it appeared the man had come through.

“Pleasure to see you,” Lorne said.

“Likewise,” I said. “Guessing you’re here for more than a visit.”

“Aye,” Lorne said. “Look here, my friend. I’ve a few sod samples to show you. The greenest grasses from my hot house.”

He had three sod samples, in fact. One of them had the kind of grass I’d pictured in my mind whenever I thought about outfield grass in a proper ball park.

When I told Lorne which of the three caught my eye, he promised to produce as much of that grass as his small hot house would allow. I knew I’d have to use the magic of the soda to take what he’d give me, and furnish the entire surface of the park.

Happy to receive four gold coins, Lorne rode off. And, soon after he left, Gak arrived with his friend Torag. The ball park site was becoming a popular meeting spot. Mind you, these men were going to be players on the team, and my idea was to have all the players live full time at this site anyway. So, they may as well have become used to congregating there.

Soon, Kestrel, and Denton arrived, on - oddly enough for them - what was simply a social call. Dillard was hanging around too, and it seemed a good time to introduce these ancient people to the pleasures of chewing sunflower seeds. We broke open several bags of the stuff from the back of one of the supply wagons.

As I was getting a kick out of watching everyone figure out how to chew, and spit seed casings, the System interrupted with a message.

[HUMAN!

This is the System speaking.]

No kidding.

[ALERT!

Effective immediately, the 12 hour gap requirement between soda consumptions is rescinded.]

“Interesting,” Proctor said, after I’d read it to him. “That ought to amplify things a bit.”

[Additionally, Human, you may allow others to consume Boop Soda, and enjoy its effect(s).

Thank you, and have a pleasant day.]

“Oh my,” Proctor said. His tone turned grave. “This is… something.”

“Something?” I said, my voice rising in pitch. “Can you imagine what we could do with an entire village on this stuff?”

“I shudder to think,” Proctor said, ever cautious.

“What’s happening?” Trevor said, overhearing our conversation.

“How much gold have we got left?” I asked Proctor.

He glanced into the pouch, and spit out a sunflower seed casing.

“Twenty perhaps,” he said. “Maybe a few more.”

I hadn’t expected to hear that many, and a wide smile grew on my face.

“Oh man,” I said. “Here we go.”

“What’s going on ya fools?” Dillard said.

I bounded over to the soda machine, with the gold coin pouch firmly in hand.

“Gather here friends,” I said, beckoning the men to the Boop Soda. “We’re about to have some fun.”

“Oh dear,” Proctor said. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”