Siren Song Page 7

  Mildred was intrigued by that. “You...improve?”

  “You’ll find there’s very little illness here in the Home,” Petra told her. “We’ve found ways to keep ourselves healthier.”

  Now Mildred was really intrigued, but before she could say anything, the Melissa called Nancy returned pushing a wheeled trolley on which were various bottles of liquid, creams and jars of unguent. Petra showed Mildred several of them while Jak watched sullenly from the corner of the room. Jak didn’t like this woman. In fact, he didn’t like any of the people he had met here so far. If it wasn’t for Ricky’s wound, he would be insisting to Mildred and Ryan that they get out of here, triple fast. There was something not quite right about the place, but he couldn’t put his finger on it yet.

  * * *

  RYAN AND THE companions were served cakes and honey water in the Regina’s meeting room. The cakes were light and delicious, while the honey water tasted subtly sweet and was wonderfully refreshing after their long trek.

  “You have really outdone yourself as a host,” Doc said in toast as he took a bite from his third scone.

  The Regina held her cup up in acknowledgment to him. “We treat outlanders as we would wish to be treated,” she said.

  “That’s one heck of an enlightened attitude, ma’am,” J.B. remarked, wiping at his lips with a napkin. He found the honey water a little too sweet for his tastes, and suspected that the honey was used in part as a preservative to prevent stagnation or to perhaps mask the bitter taste of mineral content. When civilization had fallen apart, preserving food and drink had become a challenge.

  “We hope that one day our kindness will be repaid, when we find a community that welcomes us with open arms,” the Regina told her audience.

  J.B. laughed. “In our experience, open arms is the usual response—though the other kind,” he told her, mimicking a blaster being fired.

  “You’ve traveled far, then?” the Regina asked.

  Ryan nodded, swallowing a mouthful of delicious sponge cake. “We’ve been on the road a long time,” he said, “moving from place to place. The screw-up at the mat-trans coupled with our companion’s wound is what brought us here.”

  “Do you ever think of settling down?” the Regina asked before taking another sip from her cup.

  “Sometimes,” Ryan admitted.

  “It’s a lovely dream,” Krysty added, her eyes meeting with Ryan’s for a drawn-out moment.

  The Regina nodded in understanding. “We should all harbor dreams,” she told the companions. “They’re what make us strive and force us to grow. Without dreams we can never better ourselves, and so life remains static. You’re very welcome to stay,” she offered.

  “That’s a mighty generous proposition,” Ryan responded.

  “We have food to spare, and there are several empty properties—certainly enough to house all of you if you don’t mind sharing.”

  Ryan looked at Krysty as he replied. “We don’t mind that in the slightest, Regina,” he said. “If it’s no trouble, that is.”

  * * *

  IT WAS ALMOST an hour later when Ryan and his companions were ushered from the Regina’s presence, accompanied once more by Phyllida and her three associates. Charm stuck close to Doc, who seemed more talkative than usual—if such a thing was possible—and had a new swagger in his step.

  The sun was higher in the sky as they entered the courtyard beyond the tower door, slowly notching toward midday. Waiting there on one of the crescent-shaped benches were Mildred and Jak. Mildred sat, rummaging in her backpack as she reordered her supplies, while Jak was crouching with his feet up on the bench, his head down, his eyes narrowed as he watched the surroundings. Jak looked incongruous in the tranquil surroundings, like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting bird.

  Mildred looked up as the group approached. “Hey, guys, what kept you?” she asked cheerfully.

  “Tea and scones with the queen,” Doc replied, delight on his aged features.

  Mildred glared at him before turning to the others. “Anyone else care to elaborate?” she asked.

  Ryan ignored the question, instead asking one of his own. “What’s the news on Ricky?”

  “He’s fine,” Mildred told him, “but a few days of bed rest would do him good. We left him at the...hospital, I guess you’d call it.” She pointed to the white-walled tower. “They’ve made some interesting medical developments there that I think are worth looking into, if we have the time.” She was clearly excited by the prospect.

  “We have the time,” Ryan told her. “The baron of this ville just invited us to stay.”

  Mildred looked suddenly wary.

  “Is there a problem?” Mildred asked, her eyes flicking to the Melissa guards who stood at a discreet distance from the talking companions.

  The companions had been forced to stay in places before, often at the mercy of a sadistic baron who wanted to use them either as slave labor or something even more reprehensible.

  “No problem,” Ryan told her. Not yet anyway.

  Call him suspicious, but Ryan didn’t trust this place. It was too friendly, too welcoming. They’d been asked to stay, but it was really a soft sell, with the offer of abundant food and a place to sleep. People in the Deathlands didn’t give without expecting to get. Plus there was the issue of the bomber and just why he had found it necessary to plant a bomb in a mat-trans that had only just been made operational. There had to be a reason for that, and Ryan wanted to know what it was. But he knew better than to ask straight-out; that was a quick way to alienate themselves and maybe get chilled for the inquiry. Sticking around a few days and observing the goings-on in this strangely peaceful ville might just yield the answers he was looking for.

  Chapter Seven

  Life in the Deathlands was all about “take” with very little “give.” That was the sole reason that Ryan and his companions distrusted what they had found there in the mountains. But when they left the central towers of Heaven Falls and followed the Melissas to their new lodgings, their anxieties began to diminish.

  The land the Trai had acquired massed several acres within a valley. It was ideally placed, set within the declivity in the mountains to provide natural protection that was as effective as any wall. Two mountain peaks soared high above to either side, leaving in their wake sharp, craggy walls that towered to the left and right of the Trai’s land. These walls were wide spaced, leaving enough land between them for farming but creating almost vertical plummets from above, making it difficult to reach the settlement from that direction. The chances of a sneak attack from above were remote, but the vast space that was left for the valley gathered plenty of sunlight, allowing crops to flourish. People worked at those fields, tilling them and sowing seeds in the midmorning sun, as Ryan and the companions followed a rough path down into the valley.

  Jak sniffed the air and smiled. There was sweetness here from wildflowers that dotted the slopes and from the blossoms in the trees.

  “How many people do you have here?” Ryan asked.

  Phyllida smiled, pushing her hair back from her slender neck. “Almost one hundred and eighty adults at the last census,” she said, “and expanding all the time.”

  Doc nodded in comprehension. “You have security and an organized food supply, from the looks of things,” he said. “Little wonder that this young ville is growing. Long may it continue.”

  “Thank you,” Phyllida replied, leading the way down a roughly marked path that led toward a cluster of cabins.

  The cabins were simple wooden structures, single story with no walls or fences to stake any boundaries around them. The land was the Trai’s shared garden; individuals needed no parcel of land to call their own. There were approximately thirty dwellings in total, and they were widely spaced on a gentle slope that gradually rolled away toward a natural
step in the ground, beyond which three additional wooden lodges waited.

  At first glance, the placement of the cabins seemed haphazard because of the slope, but Ryan realized that they were placed in lines, albeit far apart from one another. The buildings followed a single basic design, with a door to one side and a window in the center of the front, more windows along the sides and a chimney on top. Puffs of smoke emanated from a few of the chimneys where the occupants were cooking, for it was too warm in the sunlight to need to heat them. Teams of carpenters worked at two new structures in varying states of construction, their component parts laid out on the grass around them as they toiled.

  “You know,” Doc said, “this reminds me a lot of home. A whole community working together like this.”

  “Lot of building,” J.B. said.

  “One does not make a community without giving them someplace to live,” Doc reminded him. It was clear that the old man was taken with what he saw.

  Ryan halted a moment, holding his hand up against the strong sunlight. The line of lodges ended abruptly just a little way ahead. “What is that?” he muttered almost to himself.

  “What?” Krysty asked.

  Ryan pointed. “There. The lodges just stop, looks like the ground...”

  Seeing where he was pointing, Phyllida turned to Ryan and explained. “We think a quake hit this area at some point,” she said. “It left a crevasse that’s not wide but it is deep. Makes it hard to cross.”

  “And hard to sneak up on the ville,” Ryan said in realization, seeing the potential that the Trai’s land had for protection.

  “No one’s going to sneak up on you, Mr. Cawdor,” Phyllida assured him. “I understand how fraught things have been for you out there, but you’re quite safe here. I promise that.”

  Ryan smiled uncomfortably. Promises were easy to make, but keeping people alive took more than words.

  * * *

  THE COMPANIONS WERE escorted to three wooden lodges scattered along the slope. The cabins were set apart, with several similar dwellings between them that, the Melissas regretfully informed them, already had occupants.

  “That’s okay,” Ryan said. “We don’t all need to be holding hands when we sleep.”

  J.B. and Mildred took the first cottage, and Ryan and Krysty took the second, which left Doc and Jak as housemates in the last dwelling. Each group was shown inside by one of the beautiful Melissas, with Charm remaining close to Doc as she led him and Jak to the farthest cottage.

  Inside, the cottages were simple structures featuring a main room off which was a spacious kitchen area, whose hob used the same central chimney as the fireplace. The buildings featured a large bedroom along with a smaller box room within which a crib or single bed could be placed. The buildings contained little furniture, but were newly built and looked sturdy. Doc guessed that any carpentry skills would be highly prized here. There was also a wet room at the back of each building where washing could be left to dry. Like the town area, there were several wells dotted along the slopes that could be used to draw water for washing and bathing, although the companions were informed that there were better facilities in the main part of the town where they had met the Regina.

  Each lodge contained a single box set in one corner of the main room, about the size of a trunk. The box was affixed to the wall and floor and featured a simple sliding lock so that it could be sealed. The Melissas explained that this could be used to store important items, and they requested that the companions store their blasters in them for the duration of their stay. While some were reluctant—especially Jak and J.B.—the companions agreed to that as a rule of the ville.

  Doc actually seemed rather keen on the idea. “While I shall miss carrying this hog leg around with me,” he told Jak as he placed his LeMat in the box, “it is rather appealing to think that we are in a place where one does not need to go armed at all times.”

  Jak eyed him suspiciously. He would place his Colt Python in the box while Charm was here watching over them, but his cache of throwing knives would remain hidden around his person, and he made sure he could operate the lock on the box.

  “Your weapons are not going anywhere,” Charm promised with a flash of her warm, friendly smile. “You can retrieve them at any time. No one else will touch them.”

  * * *

  IT TOOK J.B. several minutes to place his weapons in the lock box. He took great pains to ensure each was in prime working condition and selected its placement carefully so that it would not be damaged. Adele, the Melissa who had accompanied him and Mildred to this lodge, departed during this time to retrieve blankets and other essentials from either a central store or one of the other properties that had more than it needed. J.B. and Mildred were struck by how trusting that move showed the locals to be—this was not a prison where they were being disarmed, it really was about the general safety of the locals.

  Even so, J.B. didn’t like it, and he grumbled to Mildred once Adele had gone. “It’s not right, making a man strip off his essentials. Not right at all.”

  Mildred was struck then by how different her life had been from J.B.’s. She came from the twentieth century where, while guns were part of life, the overt carrying of them was unusual for the general populace. J.B., by contrast, expected people to be armed and to wear his or her blaster on show in warning to anyone who might attack them.

  Watching J.B. place his armament into the box, Mildred shook her head. Besides his shotgun and Mini-Uzi and their respective ammunition, J.B. had spare parts for several smaller blasters, at least a dozen different gauges of extra ammo, several knives, including a Tekna combat knife and a standard pocket type, a clutch of grenades, detonators, bottles of ignition fluid and what looked like a wad of plas ex, plus strings, ropes and other useful items that he continued to remove from various pockets hidden within his coat long after he had placed his satchel down.

  “How do you carry all that stuff and not keel over?” Mildred asked.

  J.B. shrugged. “A man gets used to staying alive,” he said grimly. Then he smiled mischievously. “Plus I don’t go swimming in the coat,” he added, indicating a man drowning as he sunk from the weight.

  Mildred laughed hard at that. It was the break in tension that both of them needed.

  * * *

  THE MELISSAS RETRIEVED blankets and other basic items like pots and mirrors that they brought to the companions’ new dwellings, after which they were left alone to settle in. Shortly after that, the other companions exited their assigned cabins and gathered at Ryan and Krysty’s dwelling. They met on the stoop, as the sounds of wood being sawed and fields being worked carried across tranquil plains.

  “We’ve been invited to join Phyllida and her friends for lunch,” Krysty told everyone, “until we get ourselves properly set up here.”

  Jak snorted, and Ryan turned to him.

  “Is that going to be a problem, Jak?” the one-eyed man asked. He had known Jak a long time and knew to trust the albino’s instincts—that faith had saved Ryan’s life more than once.

  “Not like,” Jak said, pulling his arms around his chest. “No blaster.”

  Ryan nodded. “Yeah, that’s an interesting turn of events, but I think we’re all going to have to trust these Trai folks for now. I haven’t seen anyone here carrying, so there’s that. And you’ve got your knives, I bet.”

  “A blaster’s easy enough to hide,” J.B. pointed out reasonably. “All of us know that.”

  Silence reigned for a moment while the companions considered that. Finally, Doc spoke up, his rich voice full of cheer.

  “Well, I for one like the place, and the people,” he said.

  Mildred began to laugh, shaking her head.

  “What is it?” the old man asked. “Did I say something to amuse?”

  “No, it’s just...” Mildred began. “Well, yo
u’re a hound dog, Doc.”

  Doc was taken aback. “I am a...what?”

  On seeing Doc’s expression, Mildred began laughing again, so hard that she couldn’t speak.

  “What is it?” Doc asked the others, irked.

  Ryan took up the explanation. “I think what Mildred’s trying to say is that you seem to be getting on well with Miss Charming,” he said.

  “Charm,” Doc corrected automatically, and then he began to blush. “Well, perhaps you are right at that. But there is nothing unusual about a man enjoying the attentions of a pretty woman. She happens to be knowledgeable and friendly. In fact, she invited us all to a dance this evening.”

  “A dance?” Krysty asked in surprise.

  “Yes,” Doc explained. “It seems that the people of Heaven Falls like to get together once the workday is done. I think it is rather delightful.”

  “Sounds quaint,” Mildred said, having finally recovered from her laughing fit.

  “It’s kooky is what it is,” J.B. muttered, shaking his head. He had a hand in his pocket and was bringing out a sheaf of folded maps along with his mini-sextant. “I haven’t heard of anything like that in a long while.”

  Ryan held up a hand for calm. “Let’s put aside Doc’s dance for now,” he said, “and figure out where we are. J.B.?”

  Aligning the mini-sextant with the sun, J.B. took its reading and compared it with the maps he had produced. The maps were aged and scarred, with crease lines down their folds where they had been refolded too many times. After about a minute, J.B. looked up at Ryan and smiled. “You were right,” he said. “We’re in Virginia. Smack dab in the Blue Ridge Mountains.”

  Krysty looked at Ryan with wide eyes. “You’re home, Ryan.”

  “Not quite,” J.B. corrected. “Still a good hundred and twenty miles from Front Royal, give or take. You’ve never heard tell of this place, Ryan?”

  “It’s a big mountain range,” Ryan stated.