Cycle of Life, the rise and fall of Tanya Vine Page 4

  Chapter 4

  Of Marching and Meeting

  Leaving Homestead

  There were ten villages scattered across Spangerland, and ruled from the town called Central, but in this time of disappointment and fear, even it couldn’t live up to it’s name, being the furthest West of the known habitable world. It had been the seat of government for so long, that no one queried it’s location, and besides, they had a library. With real books. Oh yes, the 149 faded and moth eaten relics, survivors from the days of the empire and locked away in the temple, were Central’s pride and joy, even if they hadn’t been seen in public for more than seven years.

  The people of this land were limited in their travels by the high sierras to the North and South, an ocean to the East and the lifeless desert wastelands in the West. There was a range of rocky hills across the middle of the land, running mainly from North to South, and of the four villages in the fertile valleys to the East of these hills, Homestead was the biggest, but like the others, more than half of it’s cottages were empty and abandoned, standing as silent witnesses to the declining years of the human race.

  Life was pleasant there, most of the time, despite the absence of men folk, or maybe even because of it? On most evenings, music and laughter could be heard coming from Frankie’s taverna The Vine, the sound of hammer on anvil rang across the green from Billie’s forge, and the smell of Sandy’s newly baked bread made your mouth water even beyond the village boundary fence. Twice a year though, trouble came calling. Trouble with a capital T. It was Torrent, Martha Torrent, captain of Central’s law enforcers and tax collectors, and behind them, they left a trail of unhappy people, from La Via in the South, to Alberta in the North, but in Homestead, they were especially harsh. Homesteaders were different, they had weird religious beliefs, and wouldn’t pray to the same god as the sensible folks in the West, and then three years ago, refused to send their quota of sheep and goats to be sacrificed to the Nameless One.

  The roving patrol from Central was near the end of it’s twice yearly coastal sweep and had been in Homestead for only five days, but had caused such damage, injury and general mayhem in the village, that Sylvia Long, Homestead’s Prima, had threatened physical violence upon Mad Martha, the troop’s less than illustrious commander, unless they were restrained or better still on their way pronto.

  “Did you actually hear her say it then Flossie?” asked Glen.

  “Yeah, I was close enough to Martha to hear it all, an’ she was shaking an’ twitching, and I’ve never seen anyone go so red and still be alive. Thought she was gonna explode. Fatty Strake actually reached out and grabbed her wrist so she couldn’t pull her sword, an’ if she hadn’t then I reckon it would have got a bit nasty, what with that Jade bein’ there as well. And they was wearing mail under their shirts. Didn’t hang right, see.”

  “Mail eh?” Glen mused. “Looking for trouble then.”

  Chain mail vests, or byrnies, were seldom worn, padded leather jackets being a lot cheaper, more comfortable and more readily available.

  “Yep, and they nearly found it too.”

  Flossie was keen to talk. With her being Martha’s lackey and whipping girl, not many in the troop had any kind words for her.

  “Get your thieving rabble out of my village or you’ll not live long enough to regret letting them loose. That were her very words, then she said some mumbo jumbo stuff about monsters coming from the woods.”

  “Didn’t say what sort of monsters, did she?”

  “Well no, but everyone knows there’s demons an’ things out there. Don’t they?”

  “Yeah, course they do Floss. Well I’d better get back to polishing the old helmet and stuff. Here girl, have a sausage,” and she held out the greasy offering.

  “Wow, thanks Glen, that’s right nice of you,” gushed the happy trooper.

  “Yeh, it’s been nice talking to you. Erm, must do it again some time,” and she set off in search of Basher to tell her the latest gossip about the creatures of Burnt Wood, and as she went she tucked away the rest of Martha’s dinner into her jerkin.

  When the troop was mustered the next afternoon, Martha climbed onto the lead wagon and gave the order to move out. She was still fuming about the mysterious disappearance of her dinner, and Flossie sported a black eye again.

  “Come on then you scum, lets get the stench of this gods forsaken place out of our noses,” and Flossie prodded the nearest cattle’s rump to urge the team forward. Ten happy troopers went ahead, and the front rank of spears behind the cart ducked automatically, in anticipation of Flossie wielding her whip. There’d been much rolling of dice last night for positions in the column, and the happy winners thanked their lucky charms that they were in front of the carts. Winners in front, runners up at the rear and losers behind Flossie. (The lucky mascots were in the form of dice, mysteriously heavy in one corner, but hey, whatever works.)

  To everyone’s surprise, and Basher and Glen’s disgust, Beryl had lost last night, and she bullied her way to the rear of the small column with her two lovers. The three had been together for more than five years and no one in the troop took liberties with them or their possessions, and they had a better life than all in the patrol except Martha Torrent and her sergeant, Filian Strake.

  “Shut your complaining gob, rat face, and keep your eyes to the front,” said Basher menacingly to the unfortunate girl in front of her. There was no reply . “Well?”

  “Sorry Basher,” came the meek reply. Nobody had used Basher’s given name, Belle River, since the day she had joined the army, not even Beryl and Glen.

  Glenda turned to Beryl, “Why we trailing in the dust and dirt Beryl, we could do better than this.”

  “Shouldn’t even be here,” complained Basher. “We never came to Homestead before.”

  “Well, when she gets near Homestead now, Martha doubles the size of the patrol, and I’ve got a feeling that something nasty is going to happen this time. Just have patience ladies, and humour a poor soul in her old age.”

  When Beryl offered no more, Basher and Glen looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

  Basher broke the silence, “Anything to do with your funny turn in the woods then? Thought we was going to be carrying you back that day, or fighting off wood demons all night.”

  “Not up for discussion, now or ever. You know that.” Beryl gave a wry smile, did Basher still believe in wood demons, or was she joking again?

  “Oooh, lady of mystery,” said Glen, “good job you’re faster than us or we’d knock some respect into your thick skull,” and punched her playfully on the arm.

  “Hah! It’ll be a sad day when you can do that,” replied Beryl in the same manner, “and as for wood demons, I’ve always got on alright with them. It’s the water fairies you've got to watch out for round here.” She managed to keep a straight face as the girls in front suddenly turned again and looked at her. Beryl w
as Homestead born and felt it was her duty to keep the tales of Burnt Wood’s monsters alive, although the troopers tales of the giant horned demon three years ago had baffled her completely.

  “Damn well told you,” snarled Basher, “look to your front else you’ll be feeling my fist.”

  The previous week, six of them had been detailed to patrol through Burnt Wood to the East of Homestead, and Beryl had gone missing in the woods that morning, not returning to their temporary camp until late afternoon, and had promptly fallen into a deep sleep.

  She awoke that evening with no apparent ill effects and blamed it on some mushrooms she had found and eaten raw. Now, with Homestead getting ever smaller in the distance behind them, Beryl kept scanning the ground either side of them for signs of anyone leaving the column. She had a feeling that Martha was not going to let the confrontation with Sylvia end there and was anticipating trouble of some sort to occur soon. When they halted for the day, only some four hours from Homestead, on the trail towards Guardians Nest, Beryl did a quick head count and noticed no one missing. “Wrong, Strong,” she muttered to herself, for Strong was her family name, then to her companions, “right gang, let’s get mean and find somewhere cosy to call our own,” and the trio of untouchables claimed a sheltered spot among the olive trees above the track. They were busy making their supper of egg and beans on black bread, and never noticed that sergeant Strake and four of her cronies were already settling down for the night.

  Into the woods

  Being so close to Burnt Wood, dawn over Homestead was a noisy affair, with all manner of birds greeting the new day, including the few surviving roosters round the village itself. (There had been lots more before the arrival of Martha’s tax collectors.) In the cottage next to the village’s only taverna, Frankie Vine shook her daughter Tanya, and Gilda Tripp awake. “Come on Gilda, big day ahead of you today.”

  Gilda and Tanya came awake reluctantly from their dreams of fairies and goats. Goats? Yes, Tanya was a strange girl.

  “Noooo,” moaned Gilda, “Not yet Nana Vine, pleeeeese.”

  Frankie threw back the blankets, and the two naked girls sat up, quickly reaching for their clothes that had been thrown the previous evening onto the room’s only chair.

  “Not fair mama, I’m not supposed to go till next year,” said Tanya through an enormous yawn.

  “Come come child. I know that Gilda is sixteen but she still needs you, and when you’re fifteen or so, and it’s your turn to go to the woods, you’ll be glad of a friend to see you safely on your way. Now, move your lazy backsides downstairs and get washed, breakfast is nearly ready. Me and Kirsty have been up ages.”

  Tanya had a secret smile on her face as she thought, ‘when I’m fifteen indeed.’

  Frankie’s older daughter Kirsten was in the kitchen, frantically beating eggs in a large mixing bowl, having been up and dressed only minutes before her sister and Gilda’s rude awakening.

  Sylvia turned up on their doorstep forty minutes later to claim her share of Frankies special omelettes, and was leading the girls out of the village before the sun had been in the sky for two hours, and they crossed the ford into Burnt Wood.

  “Was you as scared as I feel now, Sylvie?” asked Gilda, looking round nervously.

  “Lady, no,” she replied, “All happened so fast, didn’t have time to think about it.” Sylvie, with Beryl, Joan and Jade, had been the first to come face to face with the wardogs in the woods ten years previously, and after some initial misunderstandings, (religion, toilet habits, mealtime manners, that sort of thing), the dogs and humans had formed a loose alliance. An awkward silence followed Gilda’s question, then Sylvie carried on, “One thing for you to remember is that Sandal’s only six years old, and will be as nervous as you. Besides, all you’ll be doing is getting to know each other, and trying to catch a rabbit, or something bigger, maybe. And anyway, you’ve seen the dogs before.”

  “Well, yes.” Gilda replied, “From a distance, but what if he don’t like me? He’s got teeth. Big ones.”

  Sylvia smiled. “Don’t worry girl. Dogs like to be with people. Always have done.”

  “If he gives you any trouble,” said Tanya, “tell him that I’ll give him a good spanking.”

  Sylvia looked sharply at Tanya, who had gone red in the face and was trying desperately to look innocent. Then they were crossing the glade at Hood’s Hole cave, and moving into the cool of the trees again.

  “Listen,” said Sylvia suddenly, and held up a hand, and they stopped and listened to the silent woods.

  “Can’t hear anything Sylvie,” said Gilda.

  Tanya put her hand on Gilda’s arm, “No birds,” she whispered.

  Sylvia slowly drew her two knives, regretting the decision to leave her beloved sword at home. “Let’s go back to the clearing,” she said quietly.

  “Looking for me ladies?” Strake and one of her thugs stepped out onto the track.

  “Turn and run,” Sylvie said to the two girls, “get help.” Then she moved towards the evil pair. “Ready to meet your ancestors already Strake?”

  The sergeant laughed softly. “Not my turn yet girl, but it could be yours,” and she lifted her short club menacingly as her other three companions emerged from the trees.

  Gilda had already retreated several paces and the trooper blocking the path behind her swung her club in a short arc, catching Gilda a glancing blow behind the right ear. She gasped in pain and fell dazed to the ground. Tanya turned at the sound and ran at the girl standing over Gilda, head butting her in the stomach. The trooper was doubled over and gasping for breath, and Tanya was satisfied that she was out of the fight, but when she looked at the others, she realised there was only one thing she could do. She took a deep breath, threw back her head and howled at the tree tops.

  Sylvia was down on her knees, blood pouring from her nose and scalp, and as she lost consciousness, her last thought was, “how did she learn how to do that?”

  The troopers paused in their deadly assault as Tanya’s cries were answered, but louder. Much louder.

  “What the gods is that?”

  “Cat?”

  “Never heard any cat like that.”

  “No, I reckon it’s a tree beast.”

  “Tree beast? Sod this for a game of soldiers. I’m off.”

  Despite the sergeant’s threats and curses, they left her at a fast trot, so after aiming one last frustrated kick at Sylvia’s inert form, Filian was on her way as well.

  Tanya dodged round the trees as they passed her and she bent to pick up one of Sylvie’s knives then ran after them. Moments later, the source of the hideous noise appeared as three enormous dogs bounded into view, looked briefly at Sylvia and Gilda, then followed the trail of the fleeing squad.

  The trooper head butted by Tanya was making poor progress and the others were slowly leaving her behind.

  “Wait for me,” she gasped, as another dog howled out
a message of doom. She shouted louder now, “damn you Rosie, wait for me.”

  There were noises behind her and she looked over her shoulder but it was only that kid, so she stopped and turned to face the brat, raising her club. The ‘kid’ didn’t pause but then, when only a couple of paces from the panting squaddie, appeared to stumble and went into a forward roll, then sprang up and thrust the dagger into the surprised girls groin.

  Her dying screams spurred the rest of the squad onward in their flight from the horrors of Burnt Wood and Tanya turned away and vomited. Despite talking a good fight in front of her friends, she had never actually hurt anyone before. Now she was a killer.

  The dogs appeared as Tanya was unsteadily retrieving the bloody knife. “Go back to Gilda,” she commanded, pointing vaguely down the trail, “I’ll go and fetch help.”

  The dogs obeyed without hesitation. Tanya was well known to them, as she was often to be found in their camp, either talking to Tag and Scutcher, the oldest wardogs, or play fighting with Sandal and his cousins.

  Sergeant Strake’s depleted squad made good their escape from the ‘tree beast’ and passed unseen between Homestead and the farm, agreeing that Sylvia was dead, and that nothing would be mentioned about monsters in the wood when they rejoined the patrol.

  Gilda was awake, and gently exploring her scalp, as the dogs rejoined her, when a high pitched whine assailed their sensitive ears and a soft blue light lit up the entrance of Hoods Hole cave, immediately followed by a cloud of dust billowing out.

  Out of the dark

  There were ten lost souls on board the time ship called Never Look Back, which had been hijacked by a mysterious program hacker. It’s two crew members were diminutive nineteen year old girls, whose innocent looks disguised their fiercely independent characters. The other eight were the last surviving crew from the giant asteroid miner Hood, which had been destroyed when it rammed the Stream’s warp gate on the moon, effectively stopping the alien invasion. The time ship was from the far future, and the miners from the distant past, and none of them wanted to be here, although the miners had been rescued from almost certain death less than six hours ago.

  Through the thinning dust cloud appeared a figure dressed in mottled green and grey clothing and wearing a helmet of similar colours. The clothes and huge knife made Gilda decide that this was a true warrior, not like most of Martha’s undisciplined mob. The dogs were alert and ready to charge back into action again, but were held in check at Gilda’s command, because their size was deceiving, and had they been human, would still have been at kindergarten. They were not yet mature enough to get into a real scrap, and had been fortunate in driving off the superstitious troopers earlier.

  “Wait and see what occurs next my friends. Magic things happen here and Hood may have returned.”

  The dogs eyed each other and managed to stifle their rising laughter, girls hey? Always had heads full of surprises, wait till the others back home heard that one. ‘Next’ was more alarming as other figures came out of the cave entrance, some carrying swords and others with bows, and they spread out in a semi circle facing the trees on all sides. In direct contrast with the miners in their battle fatigues and well worn Sundown armour, the pair in the centre were small shining figures, with long hair showing beneath their helmets. One with golden hair billowing all round the silver helm, the other with dark hair tied at the back in a single plait. “Angels,” Gilda exclaimed aloud and stood so that they would see her. The dogs moved out of the trees for a better view of the fun, and at an unheard command, some of the warriors faced them and started to raise their bows. Gilda turned to the dogs, “run back home quickly,” she said urgently, “this is no place for you now,” and the dogs retreated into the dark wood. No arrows were loosed after them for fear of hitting the girl, who stepped forward.

  “Are you truly angels, come to help in our hour of need? Then help me now for my friend is hurt and is near dying.”

  “Flaming hell. Hope they don’t all speak like that round here,” Caren Hummingbird muttered to Denny as they walked towards the unhappy figure at the trees edge.

  The two pilots had realised that they were becoming part of ancient history, so they knew what was supposed to happen. Probably, as it was all written down in their prayer book.

  “Where’s the silver one, Goldie?” asked Denny Sazgood loudly. Gilda frowned in puzzlement but led them the few paces to where Sylvia lay in a growing pool of blood.

  “Hells, look at her. I wasn’t expecting this,” said Denny, looking down at the bruised and broken body. “Can the medico manage this sort of thing?”

  Caren sounded less than convincing as she replied, “course it can, no problemo.”

  Then she called out loudly, “Simon. We need you. Now.”

  Denny raised her eyebrows but said nothing, although she realised that Caren was going to follow the book of prayer as closely as she could. Then Simon was beside them, and he and Ricardo carried Sylvia’s inert body back to the Never. It was a messy affair, stripping off the blood soaked clothing and laying Sylvia in the medico unit, but Caren had got the analysis and repair program started within seven minutes of their first emerging from the cave. Margaret and Gudrun were asking Gilda about the local situation when Denny came out of the cave and interrupted them.

  “Goldie, honey. What did your guru foretell at your birth? Was it something like, “this child will be the promised one?” She said the last bit in a parody of a croaky, old crones voice.

  “My name’s Gilda, not Goldie, and my lot in life is to be a hunter of great renown. Ma Nesbitt saw it very clearly.”

  “Aaah!” Denny nodded her head wisely while the baffled miners, Margaret and Gudrun looked on in bewilderment. “Then her prophesy has indeed come true, and today you find what all hunters seek but can never find. Go into the cave and tell my sister that the dark angel does not follow the book, but seeks to make her own destiny.” Quieter then, “tell her also that I love her very much, and that I trust her to do what she thinks best. Now go.” Gilda left them on the grass outside the entrance and went inside to deliver the strange message. As she disappeared into the dark cave’s mouth, Gudrun turned to Denny.

  “What on the Lord’s good earth was that all about?”

  She looked at them both calmly. “Pray to a lord do you?”

  Gudrun nodded and frowned. “Of course,” and she raised her hand to touch the fish on it’s gold chain at her neck.

  Denny shook her head slightly. “Ancient stuff. The Lady of the night rules here. Anyway, as you now know, this time is our past, and we are taking part in an important turning point in our history. All does not go well for the ‘dark angel’, and that, I’m afraid to say, is probably going to be me, so as you can imagine, I’m not too happy about being here.” She scowled briefly and looked at the ground before continuing. “Now, Simon the true warrior wi
ll stay inside with Caren and Goldie, while we enjoy the pleasures of camping out.”

  A wry smile appeared as she watched Gilda entering the cave. “Our prayer book is about the founding of the seven great houses, and it says that I should be in there with Caren, Gilda and Simon, helping with Sylvia and paying homage to the Lady.”

  Noticing Margaret and Gudrun’s blank looks, she smiled and explained, “Sex, dears. Making love. But because Ricky’s taken my place, there might be more homage paid today than Caren was expecting.”

  In the cave, they found that the time unit’s door was closed to them, but Denny reassured them that the cave would be a safe enough haven, no matter how long they stayed there. “We’ll be having visitors soon,” Denny announced to the group in general, “the Homesteaders will come to look for the Silver one and Goldie, so it would be best for us to look harmless.”

  “Are these the bad guys, or the good guys?” asked Anton, “or should we kick ass anyway, just to be on the safe side?”

  To the surprise of all, this brought a peal of laughter from Denny. “Ah Tony, do all men of your time treat their women so?”

  “What?” Anton’s surprise was greater now.

  “These are definitely good guys, and as you are the biggest man I have ever seen, you shall be named ‘the bear’, and is it not written in the Book of Prayer that the bear and the true warrior paid court to the several women of Homestead?”

  Gudrun was grinning from ear to ear at Anton’s confusion. “Better go get cleaned up big boy, looks like your wives are coming to call.”

  “OK,” Margaret interrupted, with a shake of her head, “we wait outside for company,” and they settled down on the grass in the morning sunshine.

  A near miss

  The flash of energy accompanying the Never’s arrival had been monitored by the Hind, orbiting 987 kilometres above the earth, and when the medico started it’s analysis, other programs were initiated to eliminate those sources of energy. But then the microwave messages between the helmeted troops were picked up by the veteran miner series 2b, Hawk.

  COORDINATES LOGGED AND STATIC. READY TO EXECUTE.

  CONFUSION. SIGNATURE NOT UNKNOWN.

  AGREED. PROGRAM?

  HOLD PROGRAM.

  HOLDING

  TOUCH THE LOST ONE. COMPARE SIGNATURE.

  INTERFACE NOT POSSIBLE 153 MINUTES.

  LOGGED AND STATIC. HOLD PROGRAM.

  HOLDING.

  Hawk and Hind had been circling the Earth for 2,100 years, and when their crews had died in the alien invasion, they continued to execute their last given prime directive. Destroy alien energy sources. Hind had been severely damaged, and her logic core had become unreliable, so things got out of hand as she continued to hurl half tonne boulders at anything and everything that gave off energy emissions until the supply of rocks ran out, but by that time, civilisation on Earth had been set back to medieval times. What the aliens had started, Hind had very nearly finished.

  As the twins pursued their separate orbits, the Hind was the first to gain line of sight with the moon, and sent out a signal squirt to alert the Hood of their findings. That the Hood was still ‘alive’ was the result of fortunate circumstances and 2000 years of slow, careful work and research. Before deliberately crashing into the alien warp gate on the moon, the Hood had uploaded a copy of it’s logic core into the last shuttle, and had then launched it into Lunar orbit. The result of the miners impact with the warp gate, and the following explosion, was that a mass of debris was thrown into space which obscured the face of the moon for several months, and the moon was given a slow rotation, with the South pole being near Tycho. Most of the shuttle’s fuel had been used in avoiding collisions, and in achieving a stable orbit amidst the ring of debris which would circle the moon for millenia to come.

  HINDMOST, MOTHERHOOD. CALL SIGN QUADRANT EUROPA SOUTH 38:45 / 00:52. CONFIRMATION REQUIRED. ELSE EXECUTE PROGRAM.

  HOLD PROGRAM. UPLOAD CALL SIGN.

  HOLDING

  Hind encoded the data log of the mornings activity and sent another burst.

  DATA UPLOAD

  AGREED. SIGNATURE NOT UNKNOWN. LIBRARY, INITIALIZE PERSONNEL FILES.

  The Hood had slowly gathered together bits and pieces of alien and earthly wreckage, and had accumulated around itself a veritable junkyard of derelict alien space craft, and was now a conglomeration of loosely joined modules, each module housing a separate function of the logic.

  FOUND 01 00105 VALENCE MARGARET TEAM LEADER AGE 34 LOST 2218

  FOUND 02 00107 DEFUSTO ANTON SECURITY AGE 39 LOST 2218

  FOUND 03 00156 WEDGE SIMON SECURITY AGE 22 LOST 2218

  FOUND 04 01262 TOKSVIG GUDRUN PROGRAMMER AGE 26 LOST 2218

  FOUND 05 01266 ESPRILLA RICARDO PILOT AGE 25 LOST 2218

  FOUND 06 01273 SOUTHGATE WALTER ENGINEERING AGE 47 LOST 2218

  FOUND 07 01274 DOOR JAMES ENGINEERING AGE 29 LOST 2218

  FOUND 08 02003 TANTO MARCUS CATERING AGE 18 LOST 2218

  FOUND 09 REFER TO RESEARCH. ALIEN POWER DRIVE SIGNATURE. MEDICAL UNIT.

  FOUND 10 REFER TO RESEARCH. ALIEN POWER DRIVE SIGNATURE. TIME SLIDE

  MOTHERHOOD, HINDMOST. RELAY HAWKEYE. HOLD PROGRAM. SIGNATURE QUALIFIED

  Now this was a turn up for the books, Gudrun still alive hey? This should be fun. Hood was different to her two sisters, she’d had Gudrun to talk to on those long mining trips.

  AGREED AND RELAYED

  MOTHERHOOD, HINDMOST. RELAY SIGNATURE 01

  RELAY ACTIVE. SATELLITE WEST NINE TWO.

  MOTHERHOOD, 00105 VALENCE MARGARET. TEAM LEADER.

  Margaret sat up in surprise and automatically looked round as the mechanical voice came faintly into her helmet. “Who is this?” She held up her hand to silence the others. “Repeat, who are you.”

  VOICE OVERLAY CONFIRMED. VALANCE MARGARET. INITIALIZE LANGUAGE MODULE. YOU ARE MARGARET VALANCE, TEAM LEADER OF 1st MINING GROUP, COMPANY OF HOOD. I AM HOOD.

  “Where are you? We thought you were destroyed.”

  RUMOURS OF MY DEMISE HAVE BEEN GREATLY OVERSTATED. HA HA.

  “Alright then, if you really are Hood, then answer me this. When is a door not a door?”

  WHEN IT IS A PORTAL. WHICH AFTER 2114 YEARS IS STILL ONLY MILDLY AMUSING AS THE SPELLING IS DIFFERENT.

  Gudrun had been one of the onboard programmers, and had used humour to try to develop Hood’s logic core, and the portal/porthole was one of the many bad jokes she had used.

  “Praise be that you’re still with us. We need help. We have a sit rep to make which isn’t good. We’re the last eight survivors from 100 days of warfare against the aliens, and we seem to have been rescued by people from the future?”

  AGREED. ENERGY SIGNATURES CONFIRM THAT THE TIME SLIDE AND MEDICAL UNIT ARE DRIVEN BY AN ENERGY SOURCE DEVELOPED BY THE STREAM. HAWK AND HIND HAVE YOUR COORDINATES LOGGED BUT HIND’S PROGRAM IS NOW ON HOLD. WE MUST CONFERENCE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. NO DECISION ON FUTURE ACTION POSSIBLE YET. FURTHER DETAILS ON THIS CHANNEL. OUT.
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br />   Somewhere in the dark recesses of Hood’s memory banks, old information was being dragged up and examined. This was more like it. 2,000 years of talking to those two stuffed shirt sisters of hers had been giving her a headache. Not that the Hood had a head of course, but you get the picture. Now it was time for a welcome change.

  MOTHERHOOD, HINDMOST. RELAY HAWKEYE. KEEP PROGRAM SOFT MODE.

  AGREED. PROGRAM SOFT.

  RESEARCH. RESTART TIME SLIDE THEORY INVESTIGATION. CHECK ENERGY SIGNATURE DOWNLOAD.

  MECHANICS. COMMENCE SHUTTLE SYSTEMS REBOOT. PREPARE FOR WITHDRAWAL.

  With a bit of luck, it was party time.

  “Is that it? Hello? She’s gone,” and she relayed the content of the brief conversation to the others. “All I know is what I just told you,” she repeated, as the questions came thick and fast from the excited group. “Hood said that the time machine is driven by an alien power source, and that she will talk to us again soon.”

  Anton looked towards Denny, “so where did the time ship come from?”

  “It’s a copy of a dead machine that was found by Sendor’s workers. That’s Caren’s father,” Denny answered him.

  “Curious,” added Gudrun thoughtfully.

  Close encounters

  Walter spotted movement at the woods edge eighty metres away, “We have company, right centre, three or more on the tree line,” and Denny urged them to stay calm as she slowly arose from the grass. She handed her short sword to Anton, and said with a smile, “don’t stand yet, they’ve never seen anyone as big as you. You might frighten them into doing something stupid.” Stepping towards the figures in the trees, she opened her arms wide and called out, “Homestead, come forward and join us. The Silver one and Gilda are safe in the arms of the angel of light.”

  The first figure that emerged from the trees was dressed in a green skirt, black tunic and black leggings with her long brown hair held in place with a black headband. She was carrying a half drawn bow which was almost as tall as she was, and a long knife hung at her side in a leather scabbard. The others stayed a pace behind her.

  “Why should I not end your days now?” she demanded, and her voice carried the confidence of one not unused to authority.

  “Because, oh mighty hunter,” Denny replied sarcastically, “I bring the future of Homestead with me. What do you see when you look upon us here?” The sharp reply was not answered because at that moment, an older, grey haired woman in a less than clean robe that had once been white, came puffing and panting into the clearing from behind the archer.

  “Hold fast Jade Bowyer, let me see the truth in her eyes,” and so saying she advanced across the clearing, not stopping till she was only inches from Denzil’s diminutive form. They stood eye to eye, and Denny, remembering Gilda’s words, took the initiative, holding up her hand, “Hello, mother Nesbitt.”

  The old woman narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose, “now there’s a thing to ponder. She knows my name but I know not hers. Mmmmm. Sashwood I think?”

  Denny Sazgood smiled, hiding her astonishment at the strength of the old guru’s mind. “Enough time later to play these games of wit, we must all trust one another here. Your leader is injured and is truly being cared for in the cave by my sister.”

  Homesteads guru put her left hand to Denny’s right and closed her eyes. “Not games child, not games. You do not belong here, but here you are. Mystery. I see your time to come but poorly, and then only so far, as if you are hidden from me.” Her eyes flew open wide and she looked round Denny to the others still sitting on the grass.

  “Blessed Lady, I can hear young ones! Just who are you people?” She turned to the archer, “this is no time for arguments, put up your weapons.”

  Jade lowered her bow at the command, and the other six women and girls stepped forward to stand beside her. They were dressed in similar fashion to Jade, and armed with spears and axes. Behind Denny, the miners stood slowly and were careful to make no sudden moves. The Homesteaders stared in awe as the ex security chief rose from the grass. Anton was tall by anyone’s standards, but was going to be a giant among the girls in the village. Ma Nesbitt surveyed the miners. “I’ve seen most things in this life, but I can’t see you clearly. I see you angel, but not them. You’re one of us. You have the gift. And another thing. They smell wrong. Not just dirty, but wrong. Why should that be?” Denny smiled, she was beginning to like this old woman, and she indicated towards Margaret and Gudrun. “These two are great warriors from a far place. They are the last of their family and these four are their men,” She said the last words in a stage whisper, and the woman’s eyes flew open wide. “They are also warriors, but of a lesser nature, naturally.” She was enjoying the old guru’s reactions. “And they have two more in the cave.”

  Ma Nesbitt was shuffling her weight from leg to leg, almost dancing, and was humming under her breath. At last she managed to speak. “Bloody hells girl, I’ve seen the man in Central a time or two, but now, six in one go? We’ve got to be careful. Got to keep this to ourselves for a while. Till we can decide what to do, of course.”

  Denny controlled her mirth, “of course,” she replied. “That would be best.”

  The two parties didn’t quite mingle, but animosity and suspicion had given way to open curiosity, and the four male miners found themselves being scrutinised by the six women from Homestead, while Denny, Ma Nesbitt, Jade, Margaret and Gudrun stood by the still closed door of the Never Look Back. Margaret and Denny explained their arrival to the best of their ability, and the two Homesteaders went into raptures when they realised that the strangers were Hood’s representatives on Earth, although they struggled to grasp the concept of Hood being anything to do with mining. Mining took place under the ground, over by Tintown.

  Peals of laughter from outside broke up their meeting and they went out to find that the village smithy, Billie Forster, was arm wrestling Walter, and winning. Easily. Well, she was 26 years old and a big girl wasn’t she, and wielding a hammer for a living can do wonders for your biceps. Walter’s hand was forced into the grass once more and the girls cheered again.

  “Who wants to try their luck now?” She asked the grinning miners.

  Anton offered to take up the challenge, “I’ll give it a try lady.”

  “Not likely. It would be like wrestling a bear.”

  More laughter, and a small voice called out, “She’s no lady, just ask Flame.”

  The laughter died instantly, and an embarrassed silence followed as Ma Nesbitt hurried up to the silent group of red faced girls and confused miners.

  “Loose talk like that can bring great sorrow, Tanya Vine. Now we’re off and away home, and no one must learn what happened here today. This must not reach the ears of Central or Martha Torrent, or her creature, Strake. Sabe?”

  Tanya mumbled her apologies to Billie and the guru, who gave her a withering look, then carried on, “Jad
e and Denny will stay here to wait for the others, while we go to South Farm, where it seems I have to remind you again what it means to be a Homestead girl.” The two groups said their goodbyes to Jade and Denny, and went along the trail leading Westward into the woods, the Homestead girls in front of the miners. The guru and Margaret were in the rear and they talked softly together throughout the short journey to South Farm.

  Paying Homage

  At the cave, preparations were being made for a night camp, Jade collecting wood from the edge of the clearing, and Denny arranging rocks in a circle for the fire in the cave entrance. They eventually sat and surveyed their handiwork.

  “Nice fire,” Denny said, “shame we’ve nothing to eat though.”

  The Homestead hunter smiled wryly, “oh, I think that we’ll find a stray rabbit or something like that.”

  She had raised her voice on the word 'rabbit' and Denny stared into her eyes.

  “Me and my sister aren’t like the others. We know about the dogs.”

  The two girls looked at each other, and the silence that followed seemed to last forever. “Very well. But I make no excuses. We are more than woman and dog, we are all seeing, all knowing, and in the forest we are like demons in the night. Invincible,” was all Jade would say in reply. The conversation didn’t get started again until the quiet of the afternoon was broken by slight noises from outside the cave. As fast as Denny was, the dog that delivered the dead rabbit was gone before she could get there . She picked up the carcase and carried it back inside. “Strange hunters these dogs of yours, it’s been caught in a snare. Look.” She held it up, “no teeth marks.”

  “Invincible,” said Jade smugly.

  In the Never Look Back, the initial frantic activity had died down. Sylvia was safe in the care of the auto medic, and Gilda, Simon, Ricardo and Caren could look to their immediate needs. They were all, to some extent, covered in Sylvia’s blood and Caren ordered them to take off their soiled clothes and get cleaned up. Caren came out of the toilet unit naked and handed a small towel to Simon who took it in wide eyed wonder. “Dry me,” she commanded and turned her back to him. She was now facing Gilda.

  “Go and get washed now,” she said to the astonished girl, who hurried into the unit and shut the door quickly. She returned as Simon was on his knees in front of Caren drying her legs and feet. Caren was breathing slowly and deeply with both her hands on Simon’s shoulders, and she bent down to him and whispered.

  “We wash, we dry, and then we lie. I’m older than I look and I feel a need for you.”

  “Don’t believe in wasting time on small talk, do you?” He replied.

  He reluctantly left them to enter the washroom and Caren addressed Gilda, “you know he’s a man, don’t you?”

  Gilda said nothing but chewed at her bottom lip.

  “This is what men are for girl, to give us pleasure.”

  “I shouldn’t be here.” Gilda blurted out at last, “it’s all gone wrong. I should be in the woods, meeting my hunting partner today.”

  “It’s gone wrong for a lot of folk today. We have to change with the changing times, and I’m sure that soon, all will be well again.” She held out another towel to the astonished but willing Ricardo. “Including Ricky’s black eye.”

  Denny had taken offence at a trivial remark made by Ricky, and she had shown that the hours spent in the kendo ring had been well spent.

  “Well?” Caren demanded.

  “Your wish is my command oh angel of light,” and he took the offered cloth.

  “Stand still and enjoy it,” she said softly to the worried Gilda, and the washing and drying session became one of intense lovemaking, eventually leaving them in a state of euphoric weariness. Caren only faintly heard the Never speaking to her, from the panel beyond the medico.

  “CAREN, THE SUBJECT IS STABILISED. REBUILD OF TORSO LEFT SIDE COMMENCING.”

  No reply came from the drowsy girl.

  “CAREN, DNA STRUCTURE IS ELEMENTALLY DIFFERENT TO CORE MODEL. PROTOCOL BEYOND PARAMETERS.”

  Still no reply.

  “CAREN, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”

  “Yes Never, continue. You’re doing a good job,” and she drifted off into sleep again. The Never wasn’t programmed to swear or throw tantrums, so the medico got it’s new instructions promptly from the time ship’s logic core, and Sylvia’s nervous system, soft tissue and bone structure were repaired and restructured to follow the composite model that Never built from parallel projection theory.

  Sylvie would be whole again, but different.