Miami Days and Truscan (3 page)

“Okay, well, I lean towards the theory that there are portals in the Triangle. To somewhere else. Seeing as how we both apparently went through one. Though whether it’s the only one, whether it’s a time warp, or an entrance to another dimension or—Einstein, you know, didn’t he have this theory of…?”

“Parallel worlds. Bodies co-existing in the same space but in different dimensions...”

“Yeah. And this place, it ain’t earth, Tess. Not our earth, not in any time, past or present. The sun looks different, the stars. Look up there.”

I raised my head and looked. The night sky was black velvet, the stars diamond chips. The moon was bigger than my moon had ever been, almost but not quite full, and like the sunlight, its rays were much more reddish.

“It’s beautiful but—”

“Those aren’t our constellations. And there’s no North Star.”

“But there’s no North Star in the Southern Hemisphere, either.”

“No, but they’re wrong, Tess. They’re still all wrong. But so much is right, just different. Look at the Truscans. Handsome group of men, aren’t they?”

I looked around the group. “Oh, yeah.”

“All the Truscans are. And those skins you’re sitting on. They come from animals that don’t look much different from our bears. We call ’em ursuts. That drink you’re drinking, the meat you’re eating. All those are pretty comparable. And the atmosphere and gravity field, got to be like Earth’s. You and I wouldn’t be sitting here breathing otherwise. So yeah, I think it’s a parallel world. Earth. Sort of. Just not ours.”

“You said Trusca was the last holdout against the Prian Empire.”

“Yeah, and then there’s Pria. There was this television show that was on in the 60s. The re-runs had a big cult following in my day, you probably never heard of it, young as you are. Science fiction show, you know, space explorers exploring new worlds…”

‘“It’s life, Jim, but not as we know it,’”
I said in my best Spock mumble.

Johnny grinned. “
Still
got a cult following?”

“More than that. Resurrected.
Star Trek: The Next Generation
and
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
. Four or five movies, too. And an animated series.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Fancy that.”

“So what’s the connection?”

“Well, the Prians make the Klingons look like pussycats.
Pretty
pussycats.”

“The Klingons are the good guys now, sorry. The Romulans are the villains.”

“That can’t be right. We got to have a long talk, darlin’. But the Prians, they’re some of the ugliest motherhumpers ever created.”

I laughed at the paraphrasing. “What do they look like?”

“Well, they’re short, probably the tallest is no more than five three or so. Broad. Very strong. And their faces—almost no foreheads, eyes like Porky Pig, nose like a flat snout, big mouths. In fact, imagine a pig that’s turned human but not cute and you’d be pretty close.”

I protested. “That’s impossible. The Truscans—”

“I don’t think all intelligent life in this world came from the same evolutionary base like it did on Earth. I mean, in our world, all the humans are still human, right? But not here. They’re humanoid, I guess. In form. But not in any other way. The big pig’s name is Kruska. And in the last thirty years, the Prians have taken over Andovia, Motravia, Frescia, and Tarn. Trusca’s all that’s left. And Dalph says they can’t have it.”

I sat and digested this information.

“Is there any technology at all in this world?”

Johnny laughed softly. “This world, Tess, this world and all her countries, they run on something else.”

“What?”

“Magic.”

“Come again, please?”

“Magic. Portents and omens and talismans. Power Stones.”

“And you
believe
that?”

“One more time, Tess. You ain’t in Kansas anymore. And you need to try and start letting it sink in. You’ll never be there again.
There is no way back
.”

“Have others come through? Besides you and me?”

Randalph of Trusca sat patiently through this long exchange, offering no comment for translation. His eyes continually shifted around the camp as though even during semi-leisure he couldn’t relax his vigil as leader. Now he got up and addressed the men.

“Dalph says it’s time to bed down. He wants to be back in Trussa tomorrow afternoon.”

“Trussa? His capital, then?”

“Yeah. We’ll talk some more tomorrow. You can’t take in everything all at once. And I tell you what, I’m not as young as I used to be. Every patrol I go out on, I swear it’s the last.”

I got to my feet, and one of the Truscans came over and rearranged the furs, making a gesture indicating this was my bed. They were very thoughtful, placing me as near the fire as safely possible.

“We’ll see about getting you some clothes when we get back,” said Johnny. “I think you’ll like the style. You’ll fit in great. The Truscan women are real lookers, just like the men.”

I silently acknowledged the left-handed compliment.

Johnny spread his skins on one side of mine with Randalph on the other.

“No offense intended,” he said. “Just thought you might feel more secure this way.”

“None taken. Sorry I’ve been so much trouble.”

“Oh hell, hon! Anything for a fellow American.” He flopped down and sighed deeply.

I hesitated over my next question.

“And you’re completely loyal to Dalph by choice? Outside coercion not a factor? Like maybe they’d draw and quarter you?”

He rose back up on one elbow. The moon wasn’t full, but it was close and the reddish glow was strong enough to reveal his expression.

“Take this to the bank, Tess Ames, and don’t ever doubt it. Dalph is the best last hope, the only chance this world has to survive Pria. Believe it.”

“Would you tell him I appreciate his protection?”

 “Just get on his horse with him tomorrow without a fight. He’ll figure it out. Goodnight, darlin’.”

“That’s not a horse.”

Soft laughter. “No, it’s not, we call them faltons. Dalph can introduce you to him tomorrow, too.”

I settled back against the fur, prepared to lie wakeful for a long time while I tried to sort this out.

“Johnny?”

“What, darlin’?”I knew from his voice he’d been near sleep already.

“You’re the Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court, aren’t you?”

There was a long pause. “I like that, Tess. I like it a lot. That’s you and me, all right. We’ll talk some more tomorrow.”

I lay back and listened to the quiet, even breaths of the two men beside me. I hadn’t exaggerated when I’d told Johnny that I’d worked my butt off to get through college and grad school. I’d scratched and clawed my way up from nothing to do it, too, a true American Dream success story. The girl from the wrong side of the tracks with nothing but brains and determination. I’d been told pretty often I had the looks to make it a lot easier, but I’d never wasted much time cultivating the said looks. I didn’t think they were anything exceptional and certainly knew they wouldn’t last forever.

I don’t know who was more shocked when Carlos Ramos, Crown Prince of Ramos International, began actively wooing his double MA troubleshooter—me or his grandfather. Fernando Ramos had hired me strictly on my résumé and on the assumption, bluntly stated, that his grandson wouldn’t be interested in brains, and would therefore keep his mind on the business where it belonged. He was wrong.

I’d never believed that Carlos, considered one of the world’s most eligible bachelors since his early twenties on the strength of his combined wealth, looks, and electric personality, Paparazzi bait of the first order, could possibly have any long-term interest in me. And I still didn’t believe that I’d actually succumbed to his considerable charms. Oh, but I had. I guess all those years of being outside the “in” crowd made the temptation to be one of the beautiful people, even by association, irresistible. I comforted myself with reassurances that I’d succumbed under my own terms. There was a firm line between business and pleasure and there wasn’t any sexual harassment involved. I’d never claim there was. But when the end came, if a working relationship became impossible, Carlos wouldn’t try to blacklist me and would, in fact, actively help me move to another corporation. I supposed my faith in that might be considered naïve by some and it was in fact probably the only reckless thing I’d ever done in my life-long drive to ensure personal security.

I wasn’t reckless enough to have fallen completely in love with him, though. Men like Carlos Ramos didn’t marry women like me. I was just a pleasant interlude, a
convenient
pleasant interlude, and therefore, I made sure that’s all I ever intended for him to be. But I’d miss him. He was probably tearing around the Jamaican airport right now, barking orders, driving the Coast Guard crazy, and trying to head up sea and air rescue himself. He’d miss me, too. But not for all that long, I was sure. I closed my eyes and let him go.

“Good-bye, Carlos,” I whispered into the Truscan night and finally slept.

Chapter Three

I didn’t feel as though I’d been asleep longer than a few minutes when I woke in response to someone shaking my shoulder.

“No, Johnny, it can’t be morning,” I said, without opening my eyes.

“Well, it is,” said a voice, considerably further away than it would have been if he was the one doing the shaking. My eyes flew open and I stared into the face of Randalph of Trusca, who smiled slightly and inclined his head forward. If Johnny’d been his tutor since he was seven, it was clear that English hadn’t been included in the curriculum. Well, Johnny was obviously fluent in Truscan. I hoped it wasn’t a hard language to learn. Dalph extended his hand and offered me a mug of fragrant friesa.

He straightened up and without the need for spoken commands, his men broke camp with a speed that astounded me. Johnny called over that if I needed to make a trip behind the bushes, I had best do it now.

“He’ll wait on me?”

Johnny laughed. “Darlin’, some things just don’t change and comfort calls are one of ’em.”

I made a dash for the designated bushes, and when I came out, Randalph of Trusca was standing beside the horse, no, falton, that’s what Johnny’d told me the creature was last night. He held the reins loosely as he looked at me and raised one eyebrow. I walked over and stood, indicating that I was waiting for assistance to mount.

Johnny laughed softly from the side and Dalph smiled and lifted me up, swinging easily into the saddle behind me. I sniffed. Falton or no, he still smelled like a horse. It was a good smell; Carlos was an excellent horseman and owned some beauties. I’d become quite a good equestrian myself.

“What’s his name?” I called over to Johnny.

“Pegasus,” Johnny answered. “For reasons that’ll be obvious when you see him break loose and run. That bad boy flies, even without wings.”

“Greek mythology? But how would Dalph know anything about—”

I broke off as Pegasus moved into a smooth rhythm, faster than an ordinary canter—though even I could tell it was nothing approaching the speed at which the animal could actually move. In a matter of seconds he was well ahead of the other riders. I’d ask about the name later. I settled back and watched the country go past.

It was beautiful. Rolling, easy hills, interspersed with green meadows, topped with stands of large trees. I couldn’t correlate them to any trees on earth, though they put me in mind of oaks.

I realized with a start that my emotions were totally opposite to what I’d have expected them to be. I should have been disoriented, upset, mournful. My world as I knew it was gone and there was no way back. Otherwise, Johnny wouldn’t still be here. I was a survivor though, and I’d made my peace with God, the Devil’s Triangle, and Trusca in the hour or so I’d spent saying my private good-bye to Carlos the night before.

Actually, I felt wonderful. The very air in this world was sharper, crisper; the quality of the light brighter. It was like waking up in the mountains in October, only better than that. I felt as though I were on the brink of a great adventure and understood completely why throughout history there had always been pioneers willing to leave the boundaries of their known world to make another one. I’d never thought to classify myself as one of them, but there was no other feeling to describe this.

Even then, even at that point, there was a small voice in the back of my mind that was whispering that I’d certainly feel differently had there been no Johnny McKay, and were I not sitting in front of the most powerful man in the country of Trusca, his arms on either side of me as he held the reins.

I considered the most powerful man in Trusca as we rode though I didn’t kid myself I had enough information to even attempt to analyze him. He was big, that much was obvious, sleekly muscled like a big cat. He had a wonderful voice, deep and resonant, though so far I couldn’t understand a thing he said. I understood why Ken couldn’t have been moved and couldn’t have been left, which removed the red-hot urge to render serious bodily harm—as if I could have really hurt him—to Dalph’s huge, royal personage. And now that no immediate emergency or danger was presenting itself and I no longer wanted to kill him, I could admit that he was one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever lain eyes on, from his shoulder length dark and wavy hair, over to his dark, oval-shaped eyes, down to his straight nose, right on to his wide, well-shaped mouth and his strong square jaw. And that didn’t take into consideration the rest of the total package. Some hot damn.