Time Salvager (26 page)
Her stomach spasmed and she hunched over. She hadn’t eaten in almost two days. At least helping the kid had gotten her mind off food, but now her hunger was nearly debilitating. The child must have heard her stomach growl. He pointed at her, and then rubbed his own belly.
She nodded.
He took out a small wad of dried leaves and handed it to her. She accepted it gratefully and put it in her mouth. This was the second time in a day a stranger had handed her leaves to chew. What had happened to all the food on this planet? The leaf tasted vile, but it was something, at least.
Then, to her surprise, the boy took her hand and pulled her southward, deeper into the city. A few minutes later, she realized that they were entering Boston Common, or what was left of it. He was leading her back to his people. Someplace with food, hopefully. Elise didn’t know if she could survive another night without eating. To her surprise, no sooner had they stepped five meters into the park than they were surrounded by a dozen dark figures. Elise counted four spears, two high-tech-looking guns, and a host of other stuff she didn’t even recognize.
“Stay behind me,” she said, pulling the child behind her. She might be able to shoot one of them with her wrist beam, maybe scare them off.
The child tore from her grip and hobbled toward them. One of the figures came forward and dropped to a knee. He inspected Elise’s makeshift splint. There was a rapid exchange of words; the adult seemed to be scolding him. Then the child pointed at Elise.
The adult—an elderly man with a gray mane of hair—approached her and planted himself right in front of her, his eyes looking her up and down as if she were a curious, fantastic animal. That, or a side of beef. He caught sight of the bands on her wrists and hissed. Then he studied her smooth white hands and red hair.
Elise took the opportunity to study him as well. He was only slightly taller than her, though the stoop in his back had a lot to do with it. Like the child, the old man was covered from head to toe by a sort of mud. His clothing was a patchwork of handmade stitching and animal hides but he wore very well-made moccasins.
After he was satisfied looking her over, he spoke. Elise had no idea what he said. It sounded like he had put a bunch of letters in a blender with the top off and just spit them all out.
She shrugged and held her hands out, palms facing up. “I have no idea what you just said.”
The old man was taken aback. “You speak Old World?”
She could barely understand him, but she recognized enough of the words to piece together what he said. Elise spoke World English back in her time, and maybe now it was considered Old World. The two sounded somewhat related, enough for her to make out his words even though a lot had changed.
“It’s just World English where I’m from,” she said.
He frowned, not quite comprehending. “You fix Sammuia?” The old man gestured at his leg and then at the boy.
“Is that his name?” Elise smiled, waving at him. He gave her a shy wave back.
“And you bring home. Th … thank you.”
“Actually, he was bribing me with food.” She emphasized that by pretending to put something in her mouth.
The old man nodded and pointed at his chest. “Qawol.”
She did the same, patting her chest and enunciating her name syllable by syllable.
Then Qawol waved his arms at the group behind him. “We Elfreth.”
She pointed to herself again. “Just Elise.”
He smiled and stepped to the side. “Come,” he said, gesturing toward the thickets. “We share.”
“Get away from her!” a voice above them roared, and a large shadow came crashing down on top of them.
Qawol, surprisingly agile, jumped out of the way as James dropped from the sky and pounded the Earth, kicking up a ring of dust in all directions.
“Elise, get behind me,” James snarled. “Why can’t you stay put when I tell you?”
She saw yellow energy crackle around his body. The last time James was like this, he tore through the Nutris building as if it were made of Styrofoam. He would rip these natives apart.
“Wait, James!” she cried, grabbing his shoulder, trying to pull him back. She couldn’t budge him, though. Her eyes widened when more armed natives appeared, weapons all aimed at James.
James and now nearly two dozen natives stared each other down, waiting for someone to make the first move. This was her fault. She had wandered into their lands, after all. She saw the boy hugging the old man’s leg, too terrified to run. Their blood would be on her hands. She had to do something.
“Stop!” she screamed, louder than she thought possible. “Please.”
Both parties forgot they were about to shoot each other for a moment and stared at her.
“Stop,” she repeated, stepping in between James and the natives near the front.
She looked back at James, then at Qawol. By now, even more of the Elfreth had moved up behind them. They were surrounded.
“We would love to accept your invitation for food,” she said, again putting her hand into her mouth.
Elise glanced at James once more and nudged him with her eyes. He scowled and reluctantly lowered his outstretched arms. She held her hand out to Qawol. The old man, eyes fixed on James, accepted it. Together, they walked hand in hand into the thickets, where presumably, she would either find a decent meal or become one. At this moment, it was a risk she was willing to take.
“For abyss’s sake, how many damn times do you have to wander off and get in trouble before you learn your lesson?” James raged, pacing back and forth in the tent-like quarters they had been given by the Elfreth. “Twice now I’ve asked you to stay put until I return, and both times you’re gone when I do!”
“The first time,” she said, sticking a finger up, “I had no choice. The second time, you just took off on me. That’s twice now you decide to just take off on a whim and leave me sitting around like a dutiful housewife waiting for you to come home,” she said.
“What’s a housewife?” he asked.
“Never mind.”
“Elise,” he knelt in front of her, “you don’t know how dangerous it is in this time. By all accounts, these people could have been cannibals. You could have been eaten, or worse.”
“I fail to see many more scenarios that could be worse than being someone’s dinner.”
James held his tongue. He wasn’t used to people disobeying him, be it out of fear or respect. He was a chronman, after all. Elise didn’t care that he was a chronman; she didn’t know what one was. She treated him like she would anyone else. James had to admit, he liked that about her. On the other hand, though, he wouldn’t mind striking a little fear in her, so she’d damn listen to him once in a while.
“You need to stop acting like a child!” he snapped.
“Stop treating me like one, then,” she snapped back, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. The top of her head almost reached his chin. “And watch your tone, mister. I don’t know how you treat other people here in the future, but you don’t get to talk to me like that.”
“What?” He was taken aback. His plan to strike fear in her wasn’t working.
“I mean it. Don’t do that again.”
“I’m sorry,” James said finally. “I didn’t mean to be rough, but these wasteland tribes can be dangerous.” They weren’t going to solve this today, and much as he wished, it wasn’t like he could order her into submission. “What were you doing out there, anyway?”
“Was bored, mostly,” she admitted. “Starving too. And then I got curious about the sewer you call an ocean.”
He shrugged. “What about it? It’s been like that as long as I’ve been alive.”
“The ocean is not supposed to be brown.”
“Who cares what color it’s supposed to be?” James had to make her realize how dangerous things were in the present. Out here in the wastelands, there were hundreds, thousands of things that could kill her. Many of these savages were reputed to be cannibals, and that was probably one of the most humane ways she could have died.
They might have been fortunate to come across what seemed like a friendly tribe, but he was still wary of them. They obviously didn’t trust him either. If it hadn’t been for Elise and that savage boy she had rescued, James would have spilled all their blood by now. He still might. He didn’t trust their motives.
A chronman’s bands were valuable commodities on the black market, after all, and these savages had already shown themselves to have somewhat advanced weaponry at their disposal. They could be tech thieves, for all he knew, just waiting for him to lower his guard so they could take him by surprise. James unconsciously balled his hands into fists.
The boy with the broken leg, Sammuia, popped his head into the tent, throwing Elise a shy smile as he limped awkwardly on the splint. He gave James a wide berth. “Deenn. Foue,” he said.
Elise looked confused.
“He said dinner,” said James.
“How did you understand that?” she asked.
“Your…” James smacked his forehead. “Your comm band can translate nearly all spoken languages. Turn it on and think at it to activate global translation.”
Elise’s jaws dropped as she shook the bands on her wrist at him. “You mean all along I had a frigging universal translator here and you forgot to tell me?”
“I was going to get to it eventually. I didn’t realize you were going to go live among the savages as soon as I wasn’t looking.”
“It would have been nice to know about this yesterday! I spent an entire day playing charades with these people. And while we’re at it, don’t call them savages. They’re people just like you and me.”
A few minutes later, with the comm band on and translating like it was supposed to, the two joined the rest of the natives for dinner in a wide open field surrounded by six skyscrapers arranged in a circle. Near the tops of the roofs was a circular bridge that connected all of them together. The six buildings, known as the Farming Towers, formed an easily defensible perimeter for the Elfreth to entrench themselves in.
The field in the center among the towers looked worn; this tribe must have lived here for a while. A large fire burned in a pit in the center. It was surrounded by several increasingly larger circles of benches. Small children sat in bunches along the ground, some playing, some being nursed by their mothers. On two sides of the field, guards kept watch on top of two broken columns.
James took a quick count. There were maybe two hundred of these Elfreth here; this must be one of the larger wasteland tribes surviving in the region. Most of them were just ragtag settlements of a couple dozen malnourished people. The Elfreth actually seemed healthy.
Elise was right about one thing: they weren’t total savages. The field among the six large buildings was easy to defend. They had built makeshift barricades that could be easily moved to fill in the spaces between the buildings. Their food stores and supplies were stacked and organized near the entrances of the buildings. There was even a land-bound vehicle at the far end. James wondered if it worked.
Elise seemed to be fitting in just fine with these people. A little too fine for James’s comfort. They were curious about her strange dress and exotic features. No sooner had she set foot on the field than she caught the attention of the tribespeople nearby. A group of children approached her shyly, and one of the bolder ones offered her what looked like a carving. For the first time since she had come to the present, he saw her smile, and it worried him.
Over the course of the night, his concern increased, as she grew more comfortable with them. Once the children overcame their shyness, it became a game for them to show off to her. He even heard her laugh once or twice. It was as if she had already become one of them. He hated to admit it, but he was jealous. What if she chose to stay with them? What if he lost her to them?
James ground his teeth and clenched his fist, his anger rising up through his body. He had to check himself. He didn’t own her. Just because he had brought her back didn’t mean she was his property. That would make him no better than Valta. She should decide where she wanted to stay. If anything, regardless of whether she rejected him or not, it was his responsibility to protect her. Like it had been with Sasha.
His thoughts flashed back to his little sister. She would be roughly Elise’s age now. Probably the same height. Sudden grief almost buckled his knees as the memory of his sister overlapped the visage of his new ward. Was he doomed to fail her as well?
And me?
Grace asked, sitting next to him and clinging to his left arm.
And me.
The Nazi soldier waved, standing off to the side. He paused.
But you don’t really care about me, do you?
“Don’t you two have anything better to do?” James asked.
You’d think so,
the imaginary Grace replied.
That’s a question you should be asking yourself,
the Nazi said.
James shook her free violently and stood up. It wasn’t the same with Grace and the Nazi. They were already dead. No. That wasn’t true. Elise was exactly like them, except with Elise, he had chosen to bring her back. With all the others, he had chosen to let them die. He was a monster, playing God and choosing who lived based on personal whims. He buried his face in his hands. Even when he tried to do good, bad things happened.
Fucking abyss, he needed a drink. He wondered if these natives had anything that would do the trick.
James looked up and saw Elise looking his way, a concerned expression splashed on her face. She held one of the children in her arms and had a gaggle more following closely behind. Their eyes met, and she immediately put the child down and excused herself. She walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” she said. “Are you all right? You’re looking a little unsteady, and a bit pale. Well, more than usual.” She touched his arm. “You’re shaking. Are you sick?”
“Chronmen don’t get sick,” he replied.
“All right, tough guy,” she said, snaking her arm around his right elbow and leading him toward the fire. “Why don’t you stop moping in the dark over there and hang out with everyone else?”
