Chapter 43: Men, Microbes, and Metal Bars

When: Between then and now.

Where: Between here and there.

Who: Theresa ‘Tess’ Armstrong.

We spent the night huddled under the canopy of a towering tree along the river. I was the big spoon, with Book the little one. I didn’t want to feel the tell-tale poke of some morning wood, no matter how ‘uncontrollable’ every guy said it was. ‘It’s just biology, I can’t help it.”

Men.

I was up first, always the early riser, and ate a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, and waffles. I wish. No, it was some sort of pressed meat-fruit-nut bar and was like chewing on an expired strip of beef jerky while simultaneously tossing a handful of trail mix in your mouth. It would be better without the bits of dehydrated animal flesh. I’m not even going to ask ‘What animal’? Then I washed it all down with stale, warm water that tasted like leather. Yum.

Thinking of animal flesh, I wandered over the creature I had taken down last night. I’d been so drained from the attack, I’d done little more than wash some of the blood off my face and hands—and out of my mouth—before staggering away and bedding down for the night. I nudged the carcass with my foot, before rearing back and kicking it hard in the ribs. The crack of bones was sweet to my ears.

“Piece of shit.”

It felt good to let out some of the fear and frustration that still lingered. It would never be enough, but I had to deal with it somehow. What I wouldn’t give for a nice long run, blood pumping as the landscape flew by, with the Halsey version of “Running up that Hill” pulsing through my earbuds.

“And if I only could

I'd make a deal with God

And I'd get Him to swap our places…”

“Swap our places, yeah. That’s it, if only.”

“Tess?” Book called out to me, a tinge of panic in his words.

“Over here, dude. No worries.”

I didn’t look over at my friend, keeping my eyes focused on the corpse. I heard his footsteps, heavy and loud, as he walked up to stand next to me.

“Ugly bugger. Isn’t it?”

“Yeah Book, definitely fugly, for sure.” I gave the creature another kick, just because. “Think we could use it?”

“As in, like food? I don’t know, Tess. It might not be compatible with us, maybe toxic or just un-digestable. I remember reading something about ‘left-handed’ and 'right-handed’ molecules, one we can eat and the other not.”

“Was this a real book?”

“I, mean. The book was real, it just might have been science fiction, OK?”

“Thought so.”

“Most SF authors try to put real science in their work, researching it.”

“And by ‘research’, you mean a Google search, right?”

“No comment.”

I shook my head at him. Book was a nerd to the core. On the other hand, we’d been abducted by aliens and turned into elves. Having a nerd in my back pocket might be a good thing.

“Although,” Book continued, following a logic he could see better than me. “If the Orcs made these bodies specifically for this world…”

“Who says this planet was the last stop?” I interrupted with a counter.

“It’s a good guess, though. We’d been orbiting it for some time, and it was in the database I used to transport us.”

“Alright, good point.” Book figuring out the transporter thingy proved his nerdiness value.

“So, if this is the planet they were planning on, then it stands to reason they made sure to make our bodies compatible.”

“It took all that to say we can eat it?” I loved watching my friend blush when I called him out. Good times.

“This species could still be toxic, though. Best not try it yet.”

“Yeah, you're probably right. You usually are.” I threw him a bone, needing his brand of thinking to survive this nightmare. “We have enough of those food bars to last some time. But we will need more water.”

We had six waterskins between us, but it'd be stupid to count on that being enough. Book nodded at this, getting a thoughtful look on his face as he studied the flow of the river. That’s another thing I loved about the guy, he carried his emotions on his face. You always got ‘face’ value from him.

“I think if we can find a fast-moving spot, over some rocks—and upstream from your kill—that would be our best chance. But only one of us should try it at a time, the other sticking to the water skins.”

“I’ll do it,” I said, with no hesitation. Book had the brains, I had the body. “I just hate to backtrack the water, if we plan on searching downstream for people. Elves, you think?”

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“Yeah, I do. Why else change us like this?” He gestured to his pointed ears and lean body. Even I had seen the Lord of the Rings movies, so I knew we were patterned off Tolkienesque elves, not Santa’s. Being short and jolly would’ve sucked. Book was now at least six feet tall, and I topped him by a couple of inches. I still had my lean runner’s muscles, thank god. And my dark skin, so at least the Orcs weren’t skin-tone-based racists. It still bugged me they only provided blades to the males, no matter how irrational that little quirk pissed me off compared to all else that had happened to us. I hoped that was an Orc thing and not a planet-wide commentary on the folks living here. I didn’t want to have to teach every swinging dick a lesson in feminism. But I would.

“Eat your breakfast, I want to get moving,” I told Book, and started trekking up the bank of the river.

It didn’t take long before finding a spot like Book suggested. The river narrowed, passing quickly over a cluster of rocks that almost made a tiny waterfall.

“This look good?” I asked Book, who was following along a few paces behind me.

He knelt next to the runoff, letting the water play over his fingers. I have no idea what he was looking for, nothing but a microscope could tell if there were any nasty microbes or whatnot.

“I guess, as good as it gets anyway. From what I’ve read, you should take a sip, wait twenty minutes, another sip, twenty minutes, and if nothing happens then it is good. Theoretically.”

“Theoretically, right. Here goes.” I passed my half-empty skin to Book, then knelt on the rocky bank. I cupped my hands, let the chilly water fill them, and then brought them to my mouth. I slurped down a good mouthful, disdaining the idea of just a small sip. If I was goring to do this, then I was all in.

“Not too much, Tess,” Book advised me, but the deed was done.

“It’s fine. You have a clock on your HUD, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Mark the time. Also, any idea how I can bring one up on my display? All I seem to have is a proximity warning.”

“Which has saved our asses more than once. My clock was just there after they turned on the implants. It might have been random, or since each of us got something different, the Orcs might have had a plan. Who knows? Still, I’d guess we all have the same functions, it’s only a matter of figuring out how to turn them on.”

“Well, that’s your job. There is no point in waiting for my guts to turn inside out, so let’s start walking.”

Twenty minutes passed, and my innards were still inside where they belonged. After finding another likely spot for good water, I repeated the process and we kept on walking. We stopped for the occasional break, pulling out meat bars for lunch, but kept going until dark, when we crawled under a heavily branched tree. I was starting to get some of my endurance back, as these bodies were easy to exercise.

Luckily we didn’t encounter any more hostile creatures, though I kept a close eye on the [Proximity] monitor—WTF, why am I thinking in [bracket]s?—and one hand on the hilt of my knife. There were dots regularly cropping up on my monitor, but all seemed pretty innocuous, small game and such; birds, squirrels, rodents, whatever. The hideous creature that had attacked us (fun) had been a much brighter dot, pulsing, so I assumed that meant dangerous. These other blips were pale in comparison, some even close to transparent. Varying degrees of threat. Now I was thinking in green. Must be the water.

Was it bad that I was almost disappointed nothing happened? I’ve never shied from confrontation in my life, but I’ve never actively longed for it before. A reaction from the constant danger since we crossed that fucking field? The genetic altering? Or is my true self coming to light? Eh, I’ll leave the deep thinking to Book. Right now, I need to find a convenient bush and a handful of leaves. There might be something in the water, after all.

After I finished my business, I returned to our impromptu campsite only to find Book standing outside the cluster of tree limbs and staring off down river. I followed his gaze, seeing a low glow suffuse the night sky over the trees of the forest.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I think it’s a settlement—hopefully.”

“Seriously? Sweet! Think we’ll reach it tomorrow?”

“I do. The light does look odd, though, not like electrical. Torchlight, maybe?”

“Well, Book, we are Elves now, aren't we? You're the fantasy buff, don’t Elves live in trees or something?”

“In fiction, yeah. But this is real life.”

“Ha! Right; Orcs, Elves, spaceships, transporter beams, digital HUDs, and lemur-bat-goats. It screams of real life.”

“Unless we are dead, in comas with a shared hallucination, or stuck in a VR game simulation, then this is our new life.”

Why did that excite me?

We eventually came across a man-made road, a little after the sun was directly overhead. Noon, or close enough for me. I didn’t ask Book for an exact time, because really, it didn’t matter. If Book was right—and why wouldn’t he be?—then I needed to adjust to local life. We watched the road from a distance, munching on meat bars that were already getting harder to palate by the chew.

“Welp,” said Book. “We sure look the part, don’t we?”

“Tall, lean, and pointy-eared, just my type.”

“Me, too?”

I ignored that. Our clothes were even a match to the local style, judging by the string of people entering the settlement. Town? City? Bigger than a town, but smaller than a city, by Earth standards. No high rises of steel and glass, but I could see a cluster of towers rising over the center of the settlement. Probably government buildings, full of bureaucrats and lackeys. Like there is a difference.

There was a wall surrounding the place, maybe fifteen feet tall, with a gate made from upright, parallel bars of some metal. There was no rust to be seen, so probably not iron. From what I could see over the top of the fortification, the buildings looked to be constructed from the same stones as the wall. While it may not be a city of towering trees, the medieval look fit hand-in-glove with the concept—reality—of Elves.

“I don’t think they are charging people for entry,” Book said, surprising me.

“Is that a thing?”

“It used to be, yeah. Either officially, or as a bribe to the gate guards.” Book pulled out a small cloth bag, shaking it so the coins inside jingled. “I don’t think it will be much, but…”

“But we don’t have any idea of the money system, here,” I finished for him.

The—I think they’re called ‘purses’, but definitely not Prada—cloth bags all had a variety of small, metal coins in them. There were round, copper discs, squares of silver with holes drilled through the center, and—only one per bag—triangle shapes of gold. The relative value was obvious, the most being copper penny analogs, followed by the silvers and the rare golds. We’d combined the five bags, one from each pack, into three separate purses. We each carried one, attached to the obvious hooks on our belts, and hidden the third away in the bottom of one of the duffels. We had pared those down, too, over stuffing two bags, the other heavy, canvas bags going in with their contents.

“Well, fuck it. There is nothing to do but do it. Let’s go.” I strode out of the woods, casually walking to the open gates behind a guy pulling a hand cart after himself. The smell of dirt and growing things enveloped me, not unpleasant at all. I felt my steps lighten, and a little thrill coursed through me. I didn’t even look to see if Book was following, but I’m sure he was.

Let’s get this life started.