Tranquil Fury (3 page)

Chapter 3

Eric and John stopped on top of a small hill and waited, for what looked like an unimpressive, buckboard-style wagon to arrive. As they did, Eric pulled a quarter out of his pocket, “Heads he is an alien, tails he is being chased by aliens.”

John looked up at him, “Isn’t there a third choice?”

Eric flipped the coin, and they watched it spin in the air, fall to the ground, where it landed on its edge, in a small mound of soft dirt. Their gaze shifted with apprehension, from the coin to the wagon. As it inched closer, the two could see that six-legged oxen pulled the wagon, and fears of aliens began to materialize in their thoughts. As the distance to the wagon decreased, they saw a plain, young looking man with a heavy beard perched on the seat, clad in ordinary clothes and a black robe. Both were relieved to see a bipedal figure on the seat, though the six-legged oxen still did cause them some concern. The traveler yanked on the reins, halting the beasts in their tracks, and stepped from the wagon. On approach, he made a hand gesture to the boys, and began to speak an indecipherable language.

Eric looked at the stranger, then back to John. “Do you know what he is saying?”

John replied, “I have no idea.” The stranger stopped, made a different gesture, and started talking again.

 Eric mumbled to John, “I know you're good with numbers, but haven’t you studied any languages?”

“I speak a few different ones. Let me try.” English, Italian, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, and German all failed to start a conversation. Not even Latin or Klingon managed to yield any results.

 “Was that last one Klingon?”

John nodded.

Eric rolled his eyes, “So how long is it going to take you to either learn his language, or teach him ours?”

At John had been talking to the stranger, he had pulled out a small jar from his robe, and applied its contents to his ears and lips, “That will not be necessary,” he blurted out in perfect English.

They both turned their heads to the stranger, and in unison said, “Pardon?”

“My name is Mirtza. I was wondering if I could be of assistance.”

John spoke first, “You speak English?”

 “No, here take this ointment, and spread some on your ears like this.” Mirtza dipped his finger into the small jar, and wiped it on the back and front of his ear, “Then wipe some on your lips and throat like this.”

Eric looked perplexed, “What does it do?”

 “It has special properties. It changes sounds that you hear into words that you know, or sounds that you make into words that others know.”

“Bullshit!” Eric exclaimed.

Mirtza shook his head, “No, I can assure you there is no cow excrement in the jar. Look, it is apparent that you are not from here. This ointment was developed so different people could communicate easily. I assume that it will be quicker than teaching me this Cling-on that you speak. This is a large land inhabited by different types, and we do not all speak the same tongue.”

John had a puzzled look on his face, “How can that be?”

Mirtza reply was simple, “It is magic.”

Eric became annoyed, “There is no such thing as magic. What is going on here?”

Mirtza developed a very stern look on his face, “Look, I am unsure of the ointment’s precise magical properties, but they will make communication between us much easier.”

Eric looked down at John, “You first.”

 “Why me?”

 “If something happens to you, I can carry you back. Can you carry me?”

John stepped forward to receive the small ceramic jar, and applied some as instructed, looked up at Eric, “Now what?”

Eric had recognized the Klingon speech from the TV shows, “I don’t know. Say something in Klingon.”

John replied in Klingon, “Well not very good, only learn to please father.”

“I told you to say something in Klingon.”

“I just did!”

 “Well, I guess it works. How do you feel?”

“Everything seems fine,” John replied, in Latin, and Eric did not blink an eye.

 “I know this may be a lot to grasp, but right now you need to trust me.” Mirtza added, “As much as this place may look safe, I can assure you that it is not. We must move.”

John seemed rattled by the news, “Where are we?”

 “These lands are part of Calicon. We are currently in what is called the Newlands.”

Eric looked at Mirtza, “Where is this world?”

 “I do not understand your question. But from the appearance of your clothing and features, I would guess you are not from here.”

Eric repeated his question, “Where are we?”

“Look, my young friend, we are in the Newlands of Calicon. I do not know what else I can tell you.”

“Who would name something Newlands?”

John turned to Eric, “Canada has a province call Newfoundland. New. Found. Land.”

 “What’s Canada,” asked Eric?

 “Would you like some help or not?” Mirtza inquired.

Eric said “No.”

John said “Yes.”

 “So then you would like some help?” replied Mirtza.

John cupped his hand to the side of his mouth, and looked up to Eric, “We need help. Ryan and Zack need medical attention. We need food and water. Let’s just see if we can get a ride somewhere?”

Eric looked over at Mirtza, “We have four friends with us, and two of them are hurt. Can you still help?”

“Jump in, and we shall see.”

 “That’s okay, we will walk,” replied Eric.

Mirtza jumped back into the wagon, gave the reins of the oxen a tug, and headed towards the strange site. As they followed cautiously alongside, Eric called out to the twins, “Lauren! Logan! This is Mirtza, and he has offered to help.”

The siblings approached with equal amounts of caution and curiosity, Logan clenching a piece of dried wood like a club.

Without exchanging introductions, Mirtza jumped from the wagon, and raced over to Ryan. As he knelt over the body, Eric’s looming shadow hovered above.

“Your friend is in a great deal of pain.” He pivoted and looked at Zack, “This one also has serious injuries. I have some medicines that should provide them with relief from the pain.” With that, Mirtza headed back to his wagon.

Lauren was surprised, “This is great, he speaks English.”

 “I’ll explain that later,” advised Eric.

Mirtza returned with a bag, began to rummage through its contents, pulling out three ceramic vials, and again knelt down next to Ryan.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” shouted Eric.

 “These will help your friends to rest and assist with their healing. Please, trust me. I mean you no harm.” When Eric did not make any signs to stop him, Mirtza placed a few drops of the first vial into Ryan’s mouth, and then from the second, he pulled a berry and crushed it over Ryan’s upper lip. A third vial contained a liquid, which Mirtza administered to Ryan’s eyes. He then moved over to Zack, and repeated the procedure, as the others formed a circle a short distance away.

Lauren looked up at Eric, “Is this the right thing to be doing? Can we trust him?”

 “Right now, I don’t know if we have any choice,” advised John.

Mirtza retrieved some blankets from his wagon, and placed them on Ryan and Zack, “We should really get out of here. This place may not be safe.”

Logan looked at Mirtza, “What do you mean?”

 “I used to live in this area several years ago. I have just spent the last three months travelling from the south. Every village and town that I came across was deserted. Something is happening in the Newlands. What, I cannot say.”

 “What do you mean,” asked Eric?

 “Every place in which I should have found people, I only found deserted buildings. I really cannot answer your questions, because I have found none to answer mine. I think it would be best if we left these grasslands, and your friends need healing that is beyond my abilities.”

Lauren looked to her group, “I don’t like this. It seems too good to be true. You know what happens in horror movies, when the stranded kids get into the first car that stops for them. He could be lying about nobody else being around.”

 “I disagree. It’s four against one,” replied Eric, “If a larger group arrived, we would not be able to defend ourselves. But right now, we have the advantage of numbers.”

John nodded in agreement, “Eric is right.”

Mirtza overheard the last comments, “If you wish to stay, then stay. I can leave you a couple of water skins and some blankets. I can also leave you a shovel.”

 “Why would we need a shovel,” asked Lauren?

“So in a few days, you can bury your friends.”

John looked down at Ryan, “He has lost a lot of blood. We need to get him to a doctor.”

Lauren looked at Mirtza, “I don’t understand why this place is not safe?”

 “Dozens of towns and villages deserted. My old village is a four-day ride to the south. My family, friends that I have known all my life are gone. Nothing to suggest what happened. Or why.”
Just those damn plague posters
. Mirtza continued, “Does this sound like a safe spot to you? Look, I will get you to some healers. They will be able to help your friends, and then you can do what you want. If you wish to stay, it is of no matter to me. Your silent friends may not agree with that, but their choice to live is in your hands.”

 “Where will we go,” asked Eric?

 “To the Northlands, that is where the most talented healers live,” replied Mirtza.

 “I don’t like this,” Lauren was on edge, “I think we should wait for somebody else.”

John shook his head in disagreement, “If Ryan and Zack were not hurt, I might agree with you, but we have to think of them.”

 “How long to get to these Northlands,” asked Eric?

 “Two days.”

Eric looked at the other three, “I don’t think we have any choice.”

“I will leave you alone to decide. I wish to have a look at this odd thing,” Mirtza said as he pointed to the bus, “When I come back, if you have not loaded your friends onto my wagon, it will mean you want to stay, and I will leave you blankets, water, and a shovel.” When he reached the tunnel, he entered it, and made his way to the other side. As he passed by the bus, he struggled to understand both the odd metal object, and the damage to it.
Where did this come from? How did it get here?
When he was sure that he was out of sight, he bent down, collected a few pieces of pavement, and then headed back. When he returned to the wagon, Zack and Ryan were in the back, along with the six backpacks, and the first aid kit.

Mirtza smiled, “I am glad. I fear you would have died out here, had you decided to stay.”

They all climbed into the wagon, Eric sitting up front, while John, Logan, and Lauren took their places in the back.

Mirtza reached under the wagon seat and pulled out a small box. He walked his fingers through the envelopes contained within, and selected three. On his left wrist, he had a golden bracelet, which he removed. From the envelopes, he retrieved a small stone from each. His left hand held the bracelet at a slight angle in front of him, and his right hand held the three stones. He dropped the first stone towards the bracelet, and it disappeared as it went through the wrist hole. He held the bracelet upright, and a shimmering ring-shaped image floated from it. It moved forward, growing in size until it was twenty feet in diameter, stopping about thirty feet in front of the wagon. The image appeared to grow brighter and dropped down, so that the bottom half was below the ground, and then the inside of the circle began to lose focus. Before you could see the grass on the other side of the ring, but now it was just a haze, then a new image began to appear. After the first ring had stabilized, Mirtza dropped another stone in the bracelet, which caused a second ring to form like the first, and he then repeated his actions one more time. As the haze in the rings came into focus, the first showed a mountain range, the second a dirt road, and the last had an image of an ocean beach. He gave the oxen harness a snap, and the wagon headed towards the center ring. Lauren, Logan, Eric, and John sat with their mouths agape. As the wagon traveled through the ring, the landscape changed from long flowing grass, to short grass, with patches of dirt, and a road in front of them. When they were completely through, they all looked back at the single ring, with the image of the grassy field inside of it, which then shimmered and faded away.

“What just happened,” asked John?

Mirtza stopped the wagon and turned to face them, “Look, I know you have many questions for me, but I also have questions for you. We are heading to the healers in the Northlands as I said, and the magic portal is the quickest way to get there. Without the portal, it would take months to get here, months that your friends most likely do not have. I need to think, so please be quiet.” He turned towards the front of the wagon, snapped the harness, and the oxen began to move again.

Eric stepped into the back of the wagon and helped to move Zack and Ryan, so that everybody could sit comfortably, and to discuss their options. Lauren pulled a bottle of water out of her backpack, poured a little bit into Zack and Ryan’s mouths. She felt their foreheads, “Fever, does anybody have any extra clothing, an extra shirt or something?” Eric opened his backpack and pulled out one of his T-shirts, ripped it into two, and gave it to Lauren. She splashed some water on the torn shirt, and placed them on the foreheads of Zack and Ryan.

Eric looked at John, “That was weird? What do you think just happened?”

John was perplexed, “We just travelled through another wormhole. Travelling through two wormholes in one day, do you know what the odds of that are?”

Logan looked at them, “Actually, didn’t we see four wormholes in one day?”

John was shaking his head in disbelief, “Magic bracelets opening wormholes, magic ointments translating words. This… it’s just not possible.”

Lauren whispered, “Our talkative friend up front has gone awfully quiet?”

 “Well, I guess if this is weird for us, it is probably just as weird for him,” replied John. “If we came across non-threatening alien life-forms, wouldn’t we try to help them? It happens all the time in the movies, and people stop to help injured animals. Helping is a natural and human trait.”