The next morning Mira woke to an aching leg and the smell of food. Her body was still stiff and sore from the batterings of the last few days but eventually she managed to clamber to her feet. A stout wooden pole, capped at each end with metal, had been left next to the entrance of the tent and she leaned on it as she unstuck the fabric and stepped through. It made a much better walking stick than the tent post she had been using last night.
Using the pole as a walking stick she made her way to the centre of the camp where apparently breakfast was waiting for her. Anan had laid a metal plate over the fire and was frying thin strips of meat on it, he looked up as she approached and waved her over. After carefully lowering herself into the camp chair she accepted the proffered plate and another mug of the sweet, strong tea that Anan had brewed. Breakfast consisted of a strip of fried meat and a strange yellow dumpling. She prodded it suspiciously before looking back to Anan; who grinned and took a large bite of his own breakfast.
“Egg, rice and beef.” he said, showing her the inside. The runny yolk oozed out and along his fingers. He popped the rest into his mouth and licked his fingers clean before putting four more on the makeshift pan. Mira eyed the yellow lump again and took a bite. It was chewy but surprisingly tasty. Anything was after eating the ration bars. She watched as Anan flicked two dumplings into the air for Kopil to chase after. Sitting back down he dug into a bag at his feet and handed her a small plastic case. “For your leg,” he said, “if it starts hurting,” he paused again, “they’re fruity”. Mira glanced at the small case briefly before tucking into a trouser pocket.
“So what happens now?” Mira asked as she tucked into her second dumpling.
Anan thought for a moment before replying. “Now? Normally I go to little outpost half day from here, near old Ghardaia. See if they need any work doing. Clear the roads and stuff. But this ain’t normal. I know some people who deal with this stuff. Used to work for them. Might be able to help you. Long way though. Dangerous and expensive. You worth that trouble?” He gave her a calculating look before gesturing around the campsite, taking in all the gear from the lifeboat and various pieces he’d stripped from it already. “All this is good stuff. Man can live well, selling all this. Make you a deal. Give it to me. Let me have all this and I’ll get you somewhere safe. Deal?”
He held out his hand, Mira hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and taking it. “Deal,” she said, shaking his hand.
Anan’s expression turned serious. “We have a contract! In exchange for this I, Anan Hobbes swear to protect you until the terms of service are completed or I am released from duty. Do you accept this oath?”
Mira was taken aback, not just by the formality and seriousness of the moment but also by how eloquently Anan had spoken. Things had taken a strange turn but with nowhere else to go she had little option but to accept. “Yes,” she said, looking Anan in the eye as she spoke. He smiled and let go of her hand.
“Good! Oath from old job. Very serious but good for making a point. We clear up camp now. Clear up, load up the truck and go to outpost. Is called Aro. Proper bed, proper food. Resupply and get going properly.” He took a last swig of tea from his mug and tipped the rest onto the fire before standing up. He turned back to her and grinned widely. “Damsel in distress, long and dangerous road. Just like old times!” He walked off towards the truck.
“Where are we going?” Mira asked Anan’s back as strode away. “This safe place, where is it?”
“The kingdoms,” he said over his shoulder, “United Kingdoms.”
___________________________________________________________________________
Packing up the camp took a lot longer than Mira expected. After striking all the tents and loading them onto the truck Anan began sorting through the supplies. Mira attempted to help but only succeeded in getting the way. Her injury prevented her from any of the lifting and carrying. Eventually all that remained of the camp was the smouldering remains of the campfire and the strange wire fence around the perimeter. As they stopped for lunch (ration bars and some kind of fruit juice) Mira asked Anan about it.
“Security wire,” he said around a mouthful of ration bar, “stops critters wandering into camp and shocks any big stuff that gets too close. Keeps bugs out too.”
After lunch Anan powered down the fence and pulled each pole out of the ground, spooling the wire as he did so. Around an hour later everything had finally been packed away. “Got everything?” he asked Mira as he walked towards the truck. She nodded. “Want to say goodbye to your friend?” He waved a hand at a patch of recently turned earth topped with a small pile of stones. It was one of five such spots, all laid out neatly in a row.
Mira shook her head. “He wasn’t my friend, he killed a lot of people on the Donatello,” she said, she could feel herself welling up at the memory, “You should have let him rot”.
Anan shrugged and turned back to the truck. “Suit yourself. It’s time to go. You coming?” Mira followed him, leaning on her stick as she made her way to the vehicle. The cab of the truck was quite high off the ground and it took some effort to lever herself into the seat. Anan offered to help her into the seat but she refused and persevered. Once in place she pulled the door shut and fiddled with the seat belt. Anan pushed a button to start the engine which fired up with a surprisingly quiet growl for such a large vehicle. The wheels turned and they pulled away.
The first thing Mira saw as they drove off was her lifeboat. Half buried in the soft earth with the blue bulk of the sky hunter still wrapped around it. One large eye stared at her accusingly as they passed. The beast was enormous, almost as large as the lifeboat it had attacked. Mira wondered how such a massive creature stayed aloft.
After that the truck bounced and lurched its way across the rough terrain for nearly an hour before coming across a relatively smooth road. Mira whispered a quiet thank you under her breath and struggled to keep her lunch in her stomach.
For the next two hours the truck and its occupants trundled along the battered tarmac of the road. Anan would occasionally try to make conversation but Mira would be too busy ignoring her motion sickness to reply. Finally, Anan pulled over and announced it was time for a break or as he put it a ‘piss stop’. After telling Kopil –who had spent the whole trip clinging to the roof- to scout the area Anan strode over to the nearest bush and cut loose with a grunt. Mira slowly lowered herself out of the cab. Her leg was stiff from spending so long sitting down. As she walked around, using her stick to support herself Anan called out to her over his shoulder.
“If you need to go there’s paper an’ soap in the truck. Don’t go far”. As awkward as it was with her injured leg she managed to find a convenient spot behind a bush to relieve herself. She spent the entire time nervously listening for any suspicious noises in the undergrowth but thankfully the bush proved to be free of monsters or any other beasties. On her way back to the truck she spotted Anan and Kopil staring off into the distance, back the way they had come.
“What is it?” she asked as she leant against the side of the truck for support. In the distance she could see a large cloud of dust- or perhaps smoke- making its way slowly across the horizon. She couldn’t make out any details, it was too far away and the dust too thick.
Anan grunted. “Could be lot of things. City army or a big herd. Perhaps a big war beast gone wandering,” he shrugged, “Don’t matter to us and no one living that way for 50 mile.” They watched whatever it was slowly crawl across the horizon for a few minutes before climbing back in the truck and setting off again.
They’d only been back on the road for ten minutes before Anan pulled over for a second time. He stared at something on the side of the road for a moment before opening the door and hopping out. Mira went to follow but he shook his head. “Stay in the truck. Dangerous”. He called for Kopil who leapt off the roof, making the truck shake as he jumped. The pair advanced towards what looked like a large rock lying just off the battered tarmac and inspected it from a short distance away. Eventually, Anan came to a decision, ran up to the melon sized lump of stone and kicked it, hard.
As it soared into the air Mira saw the rock unfurl, revealing a cluster of chitinous legs, a set of multi-faceted eyes and a spear-like proboscis. It landed on its back, legs waving in the air for a brief moment before Kopil’s tail lashed out and spattered it across the rough ground. The thick grass on the side of the road rustled as a dozen more of the bulbous bodied bugs scuttled out into the open. They scuttled across the rough ground, attempting to encircle the two. Anan drew the sword at his waist and slashed a bug out of the air as it leapt for his chest. It came apart like a piece of rotten fruit. “Vlam!” he bellowed and hopped backwards as Kopil reared up, throat bulging.
Mira looked on in horror as Kopil roared and spat a stream of liquid fire over the advancing insects. It was a thick, glutinous liquid that stuck to everything it touched and burned with a dark red flame. The insects popped and sizzled as they burnt. Anan and Kopil watched and waited tensely until the fire died away. Anan had switched his sword to his left hand and held a chunky pistol in his right. He scanned the scrub on both sides of the road for several minutes before holstering both weapons and turning back to the truck, a grim expression on his face.
“What the fuck was that!?” Mira almost shrieked as Anan pulled the door shut and buckled his seat belt. The truck rocked slightly as Kopil clambered back up to his perch on the roof. “He breathes fire?” Mira shouted her voice almost hysterical as she stabbed a finger up at the roof.
Anan stared back at her with a slightly confused expression before realisation dawned. “I forget, you’ve not seen stuff like him before,” he said, glancing up at the ceiling. “Some glands in the stomach, mixes and burns. Can’t do it a lot but good for stuff like them,” he jerked a thumb at the scorched remains outside.
If anything his calm attempt at explanation only made Mira more worked up. “What the fuck was that?” she shouted again, her hands grasping her seat belt in a white knuckle grip. She was on the verge of panic now. Anan reached over laid a hand on her shoulder and attempted to make calming noises. With a rattle from above Kopil’s head appeared upside down in front of her and stared at the pair of them, tongue lolling out and dribbling.
The sheer absurdity of it all caused a slightly crazed giggle to slip from her lips before she managed to get a grip and calm herself. She let out a long, slow breath before sitting quietly in her seat.
“I’m ok, I’m ok,” she said to Anan as she released her death grip on the seat belt and relaxed back in the seat as best she could. She took another deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking again. “I’m ok. It’s just all new and scary. I’ll try to keep it in next time.”
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Anan shrugged. “It ok to be scared. Everyone gets scared. Panic helps no one though. Will be ok. Got me and Kopil to look after you.” He nodded to the big lizard who was still staring down at them. Kopil made that strange hissing bark of his and retreated back to the roof of the truck. “You ok to carry on?” Anan asked.
Mira nodded,
“What were those things?” she asked, pointing at the charred remains outside.
“Ticks,” spat Anan, his mouth twisting with distaste, “living minefield. Left over from one of the wars. Seed the eggs and leave. Older ones explode, crack the vehicles. Little ones rush in and drink the people. Burn em,” he said grimly. “My job to keep roads clear of stuff like this. Retirement posting”. Mira waited for him to continue but he turned back to the wheel and fired up the truck again.
They drove on for half an hour in silence before Anan spoke again, “Lot of stuff I wanna tell you, ask you. Don’t speak this well enough to ask. Get to town and see if they have…” he frowned as he thought of the word, “translators. Clever things, stick in your ear and it whispers the words to you,” he paused for a moment, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “You know how to fight?” he asked.
Mira was thinking of all the things she could ask Anan once they could understand each other properly, without stumbling over words and miming to each other. His question caught her by surprise and she stared at him.
“Fight?” she asked, “like…?” she waved her hand at the road outside, “like you did?”
Anan nodded. “Lotta ground to cover before we get to Kingdoms. Lotta nasty stuff out there. Worse than ticks. Much worse. Gotta know how to fight, to defend yourself. Can you?”
Mira shook her head “not like you can” she said “they offered training back home but I didn’t take it”. At the time it had seemed ridiculous, she was going into space. Why would she need to know how to fight hand-to-hand? Then she remembered Jaz’s hands around her neck in the tight confines of the lifeboat, hearing the pounding on the other side of the airlock door. Perhaps if she’d known how to defend herself then more of the crew might have survived. She felt the wall holding back all the guilt and despair crumble a little. Her face fell and she felt herself choke back a sob.
She felt the truck slow to halt and a hand on her shoulder, she looked up at Anan’s broad face.
“Know that look,” he said, “seen it plenty of times. In faces, in mirrors. Wish I’d fought harder; wish I’d done it different. Right?” Mira nodded and Anan continued. “Can’t change the past. Just gotta be better next time. Run faster! Fight harder! Be better! Can you do that?” The last part came out as snarl, Mira flinched back but nodded a second time. “Good!” Anan took his hand off her shoulder and started to rummage around in a box behind her seat. “Can’t do much with your leg still healing but for now take this” he produced a leather belt with a large sheath clipped to it. He drew the knife and showed it to her. The blade was long and single edged, curving towards a sharp stabbing point at the tip.
“Standard fighting knife, Alloy type 1. Very hard, very light and very sharp,” he flipped the knife over in his hand and pointed at the hilt, “this bit unscrews, slots on end of rifle. Instant bayonet. Fits on the staff too. Instant spear.” Anan reversed the blade again and slid it back into its sheath. He passed her the belt and showed her how to buckle it on properly. “There!” he said with a grin. “Looking better already. Gonna teach you how to use it when your leg heals. Won’t be first time I’ve done that. For now, look scary. Wave it around yeah?” Mira looked at the knife, silently inspecting it.
“Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice, a shade above a whisper. Anan nodded, started the truck again and they set off once more.
Over the next few hours Mira and Anan tried to make small talk as the truck rumbled along the rough road. In broken sentences she told him about growing up on Gilese. How the gravity felt just a little different to on Earth or how the sky was slightly the wrong shade of blue. Eventually talk turned to her family back home.
“My parents owned a hotel. Only small. Family run. On the sea shore. I’d help my mother in the kitchen and my brother worked on the bar. Every summer my father would take me fishing on his boat.” She smiled at the memory, then noticed the odd look Anan was giving her. “What?” she asked him.
“Your dad was a fisherman?” he asked, a disbelieving tone in his voice.
“Not a professional, just as a hobby. Why? Something wrong?” Mira was getting a little confused. Anan had accepted her talk of different gravity without batting an eye but it was too much to believe her dad took her fishing?
“We don’t fish here,” he said, “too dangerous. Maybe it’s different on Gilese. Here you go to sea, you die,” he said it with such conviction that Mira didn’t dare doubt it. He paused a moment before continuing “Fleets control the ocean. Lots of really big, nasty things live there. Lotsa little nasty things too. Raid coast towns.”
“What are the fleets?” Mira asked nervously.
Anan thought for a moment before replying. “Hard to explain. Don’t have all the words. Wait till you have a translator and I’ll tell you everything yeah? Get some proper food and a beer too. Best way to talk about this stuff.” He peered out into the distance. “Getting dark soon. Want to be in town before then. Shouldn’t be too long now.”
The truck trundled, rumbled and grumbled its way along the road for another half hour before Mira spotted lights in the distance.
“Is that it?” she asked, pointing at the lights. Anan nodded, “Yup, that’s Aro. Small place. Township, place for farmers an’ explorers to load up. Travel stop, that sort of thing.”
The road crested the top of a hill and Mira could make out more details. The town was triangular in shape, fenced in on three sides by walls made from stone and what looked like cargo containers. The lights she had seen were mounted on three towers. One at each point of the triangle, each tower was three stories tall and mounted a bulky weapon on the top turret. The town itself was a hodgepodge of different styles and building materials. Most seemed to be pre-fabricated, modular structures but some had been constructed out of local materials.
Anan drove the truck down the slope and came to a stop in front of a gate set into the wall near the closest tower. As the guard approached he applied the handbrake and turned to Mira.
“Something I forgot. People are gonna be different to what you’re used to. Don’t stare, don’t wander off. Understand?” She didn’t understand, not really, but it seemed important so she nodded anyway. By that point the guard had walked to a point about 10 metres away, parallel to the truck door. He peered up at them, his posture alert. On seeing Anan his expression brightened and he called out to him. Anan shouted something back, the guard strode forwards, slinging his weapon and leaning on the truck door to talk.
While the two chatted Mira studied the man, trying hard to not make it obvious. He wore a plain grey/brown uniform mostly covered by a battered set of armour. A matte black breastplate covered his upper chest with two pauldrons fixed to it. He rested his arm on the side of the truck and she saw the thick gauntlet he wore, it extended from his elbow and terminated in a mitten style glove. When he stretched she saw that it only covered the top of his hand like a shell, underneath his fingers were free to move. He caught her staring and glanced over to her. A curious expression peeped out from under his open faced helmet.
The guard said something to her. She recognised it as one of the many languages Anan had tried when they first met, frustratingly familiar but unintelligible. She looked to Anan for assistance; he shrugged and rattled something off in the same language. The guard frowned and turned back to Mira.
“You. OK?” he asked in faltering Old English “Anan is good. Look you after”. He waved his other hand at Anan as he spoke. This one lacked the armoured shell of his left hand; instead he wore a simple glove of a leathery material the same colour as the rest of his armour. She waited for a moment for the guard to continue but he seemed to have finished.
The guard turned back to Anan and said something that made the big man chuckle. As they spoke, Mira continued to study the man. There was something…off about him, but she couldn’t be sure what. Anan had said these people would be different but so far he looked normal enough. Tanned from long exposure to the sun, a blocky face with a square jaw. His eyes were… it was his eyes. Wide set and slightly too big for his face, the irises a pale yellow. A sudden rattle from above caused her to start as, with that hissing bark that was becoming all too familiar, Kopil leapt to the ground and padded over to the guard. The man yelped and jumped back before regaining his composure. Frowning at Kopil he waved Anan on towards the gate, shouting something as they went past.
The truck trundled through the gate into a vehicle park, there were already several similar trucks parked up alongside low slung buggies with fat off road tires. “What was that all about? With Kopil?” Mira asked as Anan drove into a bay marked out in faded white paint.
“He got in trouble last time we were here,” Anan said with a chuckle, “took a dump on the guard buggy.” He pointed to a six-wheeled vehicle in one corner of the park. Battered armour plates covered it and a stubby barrel protruded from a small turret on the roof.
With the truck parked Anan and Mira dismounted, followed shortly by Kopil. Before they could go any further Anan pointed back to the truck. Kopil’s head drooped and he loped back over to the truck. “Not allowed in town. Ate a food stall and got banned,” Anan said as they both watched the sulky lizard clamber back on the roof.
The two travellers made their way into the small town. They walked down a wide main road flanked on either side by single storey prefabricated buildings. Several people milled around, going about their day. A few of these nodded to Anan or called out to him as they passed. Mira tried not to stare at anyone as she walked, no two people were alike. Here a squat, dark skinned man with black eyes haggled good naturedly with a woman whose forearms bore long chitinous spines. There, a thickset individual of indeterminate gender held up a shirt against itself at a stall, its skin shimming to pleasantly contrast the colour of the material. Claws, horns, fangs, spines. Skin that shifted in hue and texture, skin that looked like armour. Yellow eyes, black eyes, white eyes.
It was all too much.
Mira tugged at Anan’s sleeve. He looked down and spotted the look of barely suppressed panic on her face. Glancing about to make sure no one was watching he herded Mira into a nearby building. It seemed to be a bar of some kind. A series of square, wooden tables and benches lined the room on two sides, a raised platform that might have been a stage dominated another while the entrance and the bar top accounted for the last wall. An open door on the side of the bar showed a set of stairs to the next floor. Anan steered Mira over to a table in the corner and sat her down. He wandered over to the bar and reappeared with two brown glass bottles. He placed one of the bottles in front of her and stared for a long moment before speaking.
“Lot to take in. You ok?”he asked. Mira shook her head; she picked up her drink, hand trembling slightly.
“No,” she said, voice quavering. “No. what…what happened here? Why is everyone...” she trailed off and gestured at the door, “different?” She finished lamely, her voice a whisper.
Anan took a swig from his drink and thought for a moment before replying. “Hard to explain, don’t know all the words. Important thing. Everyone is like this. On the outside,” he pointed at the door, “or the inside.”He nodded his head towards the stage where a plain looking man sat, legs dangling over the side as he tuned a guitar. “Leftover from the war. Soldier programs. Inherited…” He paused and searched for the word. “Genes. Passed down from parents. Look different but still just people.” He glanced back over to her, his tone hardening slightly. “Gonna be a problem?” he asked her.
Mira felt her face redden and she shook her head quickly. “That’s not it!” she said, trying to keep her voice down. “It’s just… all different. There’s nothing like this back home. I’m trying to adjust but it’s hard…” Her voice started to waver towards the end and she stopped just short of breaking down completely. She toyed with the bottle in her hands, not meeting Anan’s eyes.
Anan was quiet for a while, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. When he spoke again his voice was quiet and his tone much gentler. “Sorry. Forget this is all new. Culture shock yeah? Lot to take in. Gonna take time to get used to it. Take a minute; we’ll leave when you’re ready. Get a translator and can talk properly. Have a drink, it's good.” He clinked his bottle against hers and took another swig.
Mira eyed the bottle cautiously before raising it to her lips and taking a sip. It had a sweet, fruity flavour vaguely reminiscent of lemonade. She took another longer pull and looked up at Anan. “Thanks,” she said in a small voice, “give me a minute to stop shaking and we can go.” The pair finished their drinks in silence and left the bar.