Frank
“Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new.” - Albert Einstein
* * *
Master Rees had asked Paul to stay behind for a few minutes, so he was waiting in the dojo, the inside practice room, looking out at the garden. The driver and the other students were waiting in the van. Paul sensed a presence and turned to see Master Rees had entered the room and was standing behind him. Paul bowed. “Master Rees.”
“Paul, we will talk after each lesson about the training techniques you’ll use to train your friends, Amy and Frank. There is little to say today except to remind you that this training must be done with only cloth covering the arms, legs, and body. No padding! We teach the body to stay away from the spear thrust, and the sword slash, through pain. The body learns quickly this way.” Master Rees looked out at the garden. “Today, Paul, I saw in you an intense purpose. You told me before that ‘All three of us will carry staffs on this journey, and although we are going to be armed, we wish to be able to use these staffs to defend ourselves without the violence of sidearms.’ Is that not correct?”
“Yes Master Rees, it is.” Paul was impressed. As far as he could remember it was an exact quote of what he had said.
“However, Paul, would it be more accurate to say, ‘when we travel again’?”
Paul knew that anything less than an honest answer might end the lessons. Master Rees shared that drawing of another staff, but hadn’t said where it came from. How far could he trust Master Rees? “Master Rees, I gave an oath to a priest not to reveal certain things until our journey is complete. But, I can tell you this, we traveled without guns. We were witness to an attack on a village, but we were unable to help, so in the future we will carry sidearms, but we seek options other than shooting people.”
Paul watched Master Rees consider what he’d said. “To be true to an oath I accept. To continue your training I must extract an oath from you.” Paul waited. “You must promise that when you return you will reveal to me all that has happened.”
This was it! Paul knew that the staff fighting techniques taught to him today were far superior to those demonstrated by Firstscout; they would need this skill. Paul knew that if he said no, or lied, the lessons would end. For the task of representing Earth to the Isolated Planets they needed supporters, and if Master Rees believed his story then maybe he, Amy, and Frank could take further training; they would all need it. Besides, he intended to tell everything to the government anyways, what harm in telling Master Rees? Paul saw that Master Rees was waiting patiently. “Master Rees, I give my oath to return after our journey and reveal all that has happened to me.” He didn’t say, ‘after telling the government’.
Chapter 20 – Mother, Slavers
Amy woke up. She’d dreamt about a yellow dome again; it happened almost every night now. It was a Saturday, February 28th. At least it would be if they were on Earth. Paul and Frank were talking outside. Amy took the chance to get some clean clothes on. They’d reached the cave without any trouble, and no sandstorm to run from. It was their second day at the cave, and Paul and Frank were both anxious to get moving. Amy argued that they should wait as they’d promised, and so far they’d agreed. They could only be away from Earth for five days. As the airfare, two Glocks, a shotgun, and supplies used up most of their funds, they would have to allow time to find more sapphires on the way back.
Paul had brought the firearms with him from Italy, giving Amy a sidearm and Frank a shotgun. Paul had gone through the safety and care of firearms with both Amy and Frank. Amy and Paul had their sidearms on a belt hanger that had been part of the kits Paul had brought, which put the sidearm on their thighs, away from the backpack hip strap. Frank wasn’t thrilled with the idea of carrying a shotgun, it seems Canadians didn’t have much to do with guns, but he strapped it to the outside of his backpack.
Amy climbed out of the tent, carefully zipping up the flap behind her. Amy saw that Paul and Frank were examining the sand out in front of the cave. “What’s up?”
Frank answered, “A visitor.”
Amy could see the indents in the sand as if from a pointed stick, and sometimes as a dragging line across their boot tracks. “Spiders?”
Paul nodded, “Yeah, at least one.”
Amy looked at the rocks around them, seeing no sign of a spider watching them. “Well, it could take a while to get the leader here; how about breakfast?”
There was plenty of time for breakfast, and for lunch. It was afternoon when they heard scraping sounds on the rocks. They all moved out of the shade of the cave and to the open sand. Amy and Paul both wore their sidearms on their belts, and carried their staffs. Frank just held onto his staff.
Amy saw a flash of white on one side of her, then other movements; spiders appeared on every side, until they were surrounded. Amy forced herself to breathe; one spider was scary, dozens were terrifying. The spiders were still. Amy was beginning to wonder if she should say something. Amy saw Paul’s hand moving toward his sidearm, and whispered, “Easy Paul. Remember. We’re invited!”
She sensed that the spiders were waiting for something. A smaller bluish-grey spider, if you call four feet across the body small, was making its way towards them. It had the same crab-like skin of the other spiders. All three of them stumbled back when two of the large spiders jumped down onto the sand; protection? The smaller spider dropped down between them. It faced Amy and waited. Amy took a step forward. The large spiders rose up threateningly. Amy froze. They slowly settled down.
The spiders were waiting again. Amy wondered if she should talk first. Maybe, but politely, she reminded herself. Amy bowed, and she saw out of the edge of her vision Paul and Frank bowing as well. “Members of the Clan Adv’fr’gaite, I am Amy Elizabeth La Reine, from the nation of the United States of America on the planet Earth, of the sun Sol. I am the leader of this group. This is Frank Bristol Wiseman, from the nation of Canada on Earth. This is Paul Augustine Fortezza, from the nation of Italy on Earth. We are pleased to be received in your lands. We have not hunted here, nor have we taken any water.”
There seemed to be no reaction from the spiders. Then the smaller spider spoke in a higher pitched voice, “You have spoken well, female leader of your clan. I am the Mother of the Clan Adv’fr’gaite, leader, and oldest of the clan. From what was reported your Galactic has improved considerably, as have your manners.” As Mother said the last phrase she turned her body briefly to face Frank.
Amy thought that was interesting. Frank was wearing different clothing this time; they’d recognized him somehow. “We thank you Mother of the Clan Adv’fr’gaite for receiving us.”
“I would learn more about you, and participate in your journey,” the Mother of the Clan Adv’fr’gaite said, “and for that purpose I will send a Daughter with you.” ‘Daughter’ was said as a title, and Amy saw that this statement sent a shiver through the other spiders. “You do not understand this, being short-lived humans. It has not been done for many generations, but it will be done now. Return here in 32 days and wait. You have done well, Amy Elizabeth La Reine; do not fail in this. I will send a message to the village that they must permit you access to the Transit Station.” With that, the Mother spider climbed the rocks and was soon out of sight; all of the other spiders followed. Within seconds, they were alone again.
“Wow!” said Paul shouting in relief. “It’s too late to leave. Let’s go in the morning. I guess we don’t have to sneak into the desert village this time.”
Amy suddenly realized that Paul was telling them that there could be an audience. “Well Frank, what do you want for supper?” Frank was startled by the change in subject. Amy could see his slow realization that spiders could be listening. “We should continue to practice our Galactic as it might be impolite to use another language. Frank, why don’t you work out when we short lived humans have to come back, in Earth days.” Comments on what happened would wait.
* * *
They’d almost reached Ravines
edge. Paul was looking ahead, over the treetops. Amy looked in the same direction and saw smoke, a number of columns of smoke, rising into the sky. That was the village, but what was the smoke?
Paul turned to Amy. “This could be trouble. Let’s look from up there.”
With their backpacks it was not exactly a race, but they jogged to the top of the hill. Even with the lower gravity on Great Island One, they were all panting by the time they reached the top. Amy could see smoke and red flames coming from a number of houses in the village. “What’s happening?”
Paul looked through his binoculars. “I can’t see much, but there’s no one fighting the fires. It might be bandits. We need to be careful. Let’s stay off the path and sneak in.”
The trees were widely spaced so Amy and Frank found it easy to follow Paul as they made their way down the valley. With a signal for silence, Paul stopped and crouched down. He signaled them to come up quietly as he took off his backpack. She and Frank did the same, and crawled up alongside Paul.
Amy watched men in red jackets use their spears and swords to herd some of the villagers from Ravinesedge across the meadow. She knew some of them from their last visit. The men used their spears and swords to make the villagers sit down on the purple-green grass; the villagers huddled together in a frightened cluster of humanity. The purplish light from this sun now seemed to Amy to make everything look very sinister.
She noticed someone in charge wearing a fancy hat, pink, with a wide rim and a bow on the hat band. He sat on the grass with his back to a stump of a tree, watching. “An officer? Are they bandits? Look, there’s Wellfilling.”
Paul was propped on his elbows using his binoculars, looking through a gap in the long grass. “Maybe, but they’re not dressed like the bandits we saw before. There are no young men or women from the village, and no children; they may have gotten away.”
Frank whispered, “I’d say they were slavers from the uniforms. I was told about those red jackets.”
She looked through the thin grass under a bush. A group of the slavers picked out an old man and started poking at him with their spears, making him run. They chased him to the edge of the ravine, cutting his skin with their spears, as he tried to push the spears away with his hands only to lacerate them on the spears. Blood was soaking his clothes. The man was shouting, begging, for mercy from the slavers, and shouting to the other villagers for help, but they were surrounded by other slavers carrying spears and swords. She could hear the slavers laughter and shouting as they tormented the man. Now they had trapped the old man on the edge of the ravine, he couldn’t move because of the tips of the spears against his chest. He pleaded for mercy. The one with the fancy hat continued to watch.
“What are they going to do to him?” Amy asked quietly, afraid of the answer. She didn’t have long to wait. One of the slavers thrust his spear into the chest of the old man. It must have gone in a couple of inches at least. The old man jerked back, and with arms wildly flailing, fell screaming into the ravine. “No!” She couldn’t stop the word coming out. Amy heard Frank’s smothered curse, and she felt Paul push her face down into the grass.
“Quiet,” Paul whispered urgently.
She was glad not to be looking at the meadow any more, but the sweet smell of the grass was absurd in this situation. She could hear the slavers cheering, and the villagers crying and pleading. Paul let her go when he saw Amy’s teeth clenched, as she struggled to keep quiet. Amy whispered urgently, “We need to do something! Let’s fire a few shots and scare them off.”
Paul shook his head. “No. That only works if they’re scared of guns. These killers don’t even know what a gun is. There’s about thirty slavers, and fifty villagers. Master Rees warned me that sometimes there’s no option but shooting!”
Frank pointed into the meadow. “They’ve picked out a woman now. Either we stop this or we leave. I don’t want to just watch!”
Paul looked at Amy. “We’re going to have to shoot some of the slavers, and then they’ll be scared. There’s no other way. This is why it should be the military out here.”
“Maybe,” she answered firmly, “but we’re here now.”
Paul looked into the clearing. “We have to move soon if we’re going to stop more killing.”
“I’ll use the shotgun,” Frank told them, making the decision for all of them. Frank hadn’t wanted to take a sidearm because he didn’t know how to use one, and, he didn’t think he could shoot anyone. Paul had purchased two sidearms, one shotgun, and ammo in Italy and brought them through customs with the permit the Commander had obtained for him. He'd bought a shotgun as Frank knew next to nothing about guns. It seemed now that the shotgun was a good choice; accuracy wasn’t necessary.
Amy gave Paul a nod. They crawled backwards quietly. Amy was careful with her staff, she didn't want to hit the bushes and give their position away.
Paul handed Amy a sidearm and a spare clip. “How good a shot can you be with this?”
Amy put her staff down to get her hands free, answering nervously, realizing she was nattering, “Very good. I’ve practiced with a Glock. I went to a pistol range regularly growing up. My Dad insisted. I won competitions. But I never carried a gun. How much ammo do we have?”
Paul lifted up his sidearm and his spare clip. “Two Glocks, four clips, 52 bullets, plus the shotgun with one box of shells, 25 in a box, not enough for a war.” Paul looked out to the meadow again. Seeming to have made a decision, he looked back at them. “Frank, how much did you use a shotgun?”
“I’ve hunted ducks with my Uncle, but that was only once. Never fired a sidearm.”
“OK, the shotgun is best for you. Sidearms and shotguns have a short range so we’ll have to sneak in close. Don’t forget that gravity is lighter here so the bullets won’t drop as much.”
Amy was puzzled, “Why sneak in? If we just walk in, they won’t do anything at first, and we’ll get close enough. Paul, can you just wound the man in the fancy hat?”
“Sure. Why?”
“We need to question someone about what is going on.”
“Good thinking. I’ll go around the meadow to the far side. Frank you come in from near that big tree over there and go for the guards around the villagers sitting on the grass. Amy starts from here. Amy and I will go for the group killing the villagers. When I step out of the trees we all start.” Paul looked intently at Frank. “Can you shoot the slavers?”
Their discussion was interrupted by a scream from the woman in the meadow that was suddenly silenced.
Frank was emphatic, “This vermin, yes.”
“Amy? You OK with this?” Paul asked her, as he raised a questioning eyebrow.
She nodded, now extremely nervous, shaking. “I hate bullies, and slavers are another type of bully...” She interrupted herself, she was nattering again, “Yes.” She’d shot her competition pistol hundreds, likely thousands of times, but this would be the first time she would shoot at a person. Not at them, she reminded herself, to kill them.
Paul told them quietly, his commanding tone getting their attention “Shoot for the center of the chest. Even if you don't kill them, you stop them.”
Amy looked at him, “I can do that.”
Paul ran off through the trees, Frank went the opposite way. Amy watched as the woman the slavers had dragged out of the cluster of villagers was cut and poked. The slavers laughed and shouted at the woman. Amy knew that she’d kill this ‘vermin’ too. “Hurry Paul!” she whispered as she watched the trees beyond the officer. While she waited her mind went back to a few months ago. If only she’d said no to going to Mexico, and had never met Simon. Like Neo, if she hadn’t taken the red pill! Her brain was spinning. Focus, she told herself, focus!
She tried not to watch as they selected another victim. After what seemed hours, she saw Paul step out of the trees. He headed for a spot directly between Fancy Hat and the torturers. Amy saw that he’d be able to shoot Fancy Hat and then start shooting the other slav
ers from the same spot. Smart. The slavers saw him now, and were shouting to the officer.
Amy started out of the trees. Seeing Amy enter the meadow, they hesitated. He who hesitates loses, she thought flippantly. Focus, she told herself, focus!
The slavers saw Frank coming into the clearing from behind them. The slavers were worried now, watching the three people walking towards them. Some of the slavers were pointing at what they were carrying in their hands.
She was getting too close; Amy stopped. Some of the slavers started walking towards her. Keeping the sidearm pointed at the ground Amy grasped it in two hands, switched off the safety with her thumb, and spread her feet apart in the stance she’d been taught. Amy went through Stef’s coaching; aim for the chest, the biggest target, and fire two shots. Amy decided on one shot; they couldn’t fire back. She didn't have a lot of ammo!
Amy heard some of the villagers shouting for them to run away. The shouting seemed remote, far away, she was in her zone, clear of distractions, but also aware of personal revenge, partial repayment for past pain.
Amy recognized the sound of Paul’s sidearm, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Fancy Hat go down grasping his leg. The loud crack of the sidearm had caused everyone to look at Paul. Amy aimed at the chest of the closest bandit, and fired. He crumpled. The other bandits just looked at him on the ground, not knowing what had happened. Amy treated them like targets, firing at a slow, steady pace. She kept shooting until the sidearm just clicked. She pulled out the empty clip, put it in her pocket, grabbed the full clip, pushed it in, and raised the sidearm again.
Paul was shouting something at her. She stopped. “It’s OK Amy. It’s OK. Stop shooting Amy, they’re surrendering.” Amy saw a trail of dead and wounded bandits, mostly dead, leading from her feet towards the ravine. Paul was looking at the ones she’d shot. Some of them were shot in the back.
Paul asked, “What was that about?”
“Justice!” Amy answered, knowing he wouldn’t understand. “Something in my past I don’t want to talk about now. And yes, I shouldn’t have shot them in the back, they’re people too. I’ll do better next time.” She looked around. The surviving slavers were backed up against the ravine, spears on the ground and their hands in the air. Empty hands, it appears, was universal sign of surrender. The villagers had the spears now and were showing that they were willing to use them. With Frank helping, they were moving the remaining slavers towards the group by the ravine.