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CHAPTER 6

Shug wasn’t sure what all this was. It was even more clever than the things he’d seen so far. All the women were so shapely and lush. They should be having healthy babies. The food thing was delightful. He tried several other foods, though the Voice didn’t speak well. He just asked for different meat and was rewarded with a bird, an ox, some sort of something else, another bird, a fish. He then asked for sweetened acorn cake and there was stumbling before it understood. That was good, too. Then a rice cake. An apple, which it understood at once.

He stopped. He wasn’t sure what the rules were and he didn’t want them angry.

He looked at the flat bench the solzhes sat at. There was all kinds of food there, much of it stuff he didn’t recognize. Their cooking was very elaborate. He understood aged meat was better, cooked with fire was tastier than boiling, salt made things better, so did a lot of herbs cut from plants. He knew how rice was grown, and fruit. What they had was far beyond his understanding.

He moved close to Dan Speaker, and pointed at his meat then at himself.

Dan said, “Yes, later,” but grabbed one of the flat food holders and Shug put his food on it. Dan must have meant, “Yes, here.”

He said, “Tank you,” their way, and went to sit, but another seat came over for him. Char? A char. He sat on the char, and the eating flat was just the right height. He understood the one implement was for stabbing the meat, and the other thing was a knife, very long, thin, and cunningly made.

The meat was so tender, and cut easily. He lifted up the thing with the meat on it…

Spirits around! That was the tastiest ox he’d ever had. It ran with juice, had salt and other flavorings, and chewed as easily as cooked rice.

Those were mushrooms, also salty and tasty.

He had to find out if it was possible to bring his whole clan here, where the food was free and the lodges were too tall to reach the roof.

This place was even more magical than Dan’s place. The shaman speaking from overhead wasn’t a total shock. Dan’s people had done that. This food was even more wonderful, and the seat that became a bed with perfect darkness but fresh air was truly spiritual.

He missed fire, though. He tried asking the shaman. “Can we have fire?”

The voice replied, “Please, that term not known, speak with Dan.”

“Dan?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Can we have fire?”

“Let me ask.” Dan said something in his language, and there was a reply. A spot near the wall cleared, things moved and took shape, and there was a rock-covered hearth that suddenly grew a fire.

“Is that good?”

“Good, Dan, tank you.”

If this wasn’t the spirit world, how amazing must that be?


Sean Elliott made sure his people, including the civilians and Shug, had food. Oglesby had taken the boy around already.

“Sergeant Caswell?” he called.

She came over at once.

“Yes, sir?”

He asked, “Can you make sure the two civilian women know about the facilities?”

She nodded and agreed, “Certainly. I’ve shown them everything except how to activate sleep quarters. I don’t think that will be tough. Dr. Raven is already testing the limits of House’s capabilities.”

“Yeah, on the one hand, I’m glad they’re smart. On the other hand, they might be too smart, and not used to taking orders.”

On the one hand, he liked knowing they might find useful information from the past, or even hypothetically from the future. On the other, he didn’t want to irritate the Bykos, and he didn’t like having civilians treading over his military operation.

Caswell said, “I’ve considered that, too. I’ll try to bring it up in conversation.”

“Thanks, please do. Enjoy dinner.”

She half smiled. “I already was, but thanks.”

It was nice to have a fire, in what looked like a stone fireplace. He decided to go with steak himself. Though tomorrow he might have pizza. It was a very nice perk to be getting per diem based on rations not available, and to have the best restaurant he’d ever eaten at ready to serve anything at all.

His steak arrived, and he ate at the table with Dr. Sheridan, Doc, and Spencer.

“How is everyone acclimating or reacclimating so far?” he asked.

Doc said, “Awesome, sir. I feel a lot more confident this time.”

Spencer finished a bite of chicken and said, “Yeah, I’m not terrified of being left behind yet. The food is good. We’re better prepared.”

Sheridan looked around. “For what’s basically a holding cell, this is amazing. I’ll have to watch what I eat. I’m heavy enough as is. Hopefully we’ll be doing some walking.”

“What do you think of the people?”

She admitted, “They’re all really tall and disgustingly attractive. I feel like a dwarf.”

He agreed, “Yeah, we never got used to the height.”

Sheridan started talking. “It’s got to be partly diet and development. I’d need to know time frame to determine if any evolutionary strains have had time to effect. Then of course there’s the possibility of genetic manipulation, or in vivo or even in vitro chromosomal…” She looked at the soldiers. “Okay, there’s all kinds of possible factors and I could talk all day.”

Sean laughed. “That’s fine. I’m glad you’re enthused about the project.”

“Very,” she agreed.

Sean was glad of Spencer’s reminder on being overheard. There was literally no way to have a conversation private from their hosts, and if the Byko or whatever were along on this recovery mission, then everything for the duration was intel for a foreign government. It might be a somewhat friendly, somewhat allied government, but it had its own agenda, and the US had to keep as much separation as possible. He was only a captain. The Byko might know everything they needed from history. Or he might have intel that would work against their or his nation’s interests. No one must slip a word, and he couldn’t really say that, though it would be better to do so than risk leaks. He’d do so if he felt it necessary, and the hell with risking offense to the hosts. After all, they had plenty of their secrets.

In fact…

“Listen up. Reiterating what Sergeant Spencer said, our hosts have certain information they can’t share with us for their own reasons. We also have information we will not share. If in doubt, keep silent.” There.

“Sergeant Spencer, Doctors, please come here for a meeting.”

Devereaux asked, “Including me, sir?”

“You are a doctor and an officer. Please.” He very much wanted the man to be comfortable acting as an officer.

“Thank you, sir.”

He nodded back, and waved the couches over. House could even respond to certain nonverbal cues.

His leadership staff—which was most of the group.

He raised his voice and added, “In fact, we’re small enough we’ll just go with all personnel for these. Everyone grab a drink and get comfortable. We’ve got some updates to discuss.”

In short order, the troops had beverages and were sitting in a group, except for Raven.

“I don’t sit well,” she said. “I need to pace, if you can allow it.”

“I guess,” he said. He didn’t like people lurking around, but she was a civilian scientist and they had some quirks. He’d deal with it.

“Okay, we’re going to have some local access here. I want everyone to keep under control, even though I know our hosts will help with that. We shouldn’t need them. Then, we already have a training schedule before hopping back. If we’re learning their equipment, that shows a level of trust.”

Sheridan said, “It does, but I also assume we won’t be able to figure out the technical specs behind their operation. So they’re not risking much.”

“That reassures me,” Sean said. “I don’t want them deciding they need to detain us, erase memories, whatever.”

He moved on with, “Okay, going around, thoughts?”

From the back, Raven said, “So if I had to guess, ‘Shuff’ is something akin to ‘Chief.’ The inflection on ‘gajin’ suggests it’s ‘guardian.’ A leader and an enlisted.”

“That’s plausible,” Oglesby agreed. “Why not just ask?”

“This way I have a hypothesis to test. I like learning languages.”

“Hmm. True. So do I.”


Sean had just ended the meeting when the door chimed and Cryder entered with Arnet, his subordinate from the previous time travel. They were in what might be an official uniform in bright orange and red. The cut was flattering. The colors were absolutely to draw attention. He figured that was on purpose.

“Hello, Captain, troops,” he greeted.

“Hey, Cryder, and Arnet,” Doc replied.

“Torand is fine, or Tor. We’re two elments and don’t have one line of command.”

Arnet said, “Rusen or Rus is fine.” He still looked odd to Sean’s eye. He was definitely male. They’d all seen him naked in camp. But he looked strange for some reason. His entire stature and bearing weren’t quite right. He didn’t look feminine either, so that wasn’t it. The shorter of the two, he was only 6′3″. He shook hands all around with a firm grip.

Sean said, “We remember, but we’ll probably be a little formal by default.”

Cryder said, “You will all need to be trained on our field vehicle and on tools, in case of emergency.”

“Good idea.” He was pleased they were going to share that sort of information.

“We have a training range nearby outside.”

“Outside?”

The man explained, “In a wilderness area, not far from the facility.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Can we start tomorrow morning? On your clock, it would be oh nine hundred.”

“That is perfectly doable. Do you wish to depart here at that time, or be training at that time?”

The man said, “Depart from right here at that time.”

“We can do so.”

“Excellent. We’ll leave you to settle in.”

It was later in the day here than it had been back home, but they were all still a bit off from time zone changes, so what was one more?

“We’ll sleep until oh seven hundred local, which gives everyone two hours for hygiene and breakfast. Until then, let’s show the new folks what amenities there are—video, games, everything.”

“And pet the cat,” Caswell said. Cal was enjoying something from the server that looked like it might be liver.

“And pet the cat. We found Cal injured, managed to treat his paw, tossed him some scraps, and he domesticated himself enough to bring us food—rabbits, birds, decent-sized stuff. Of course, he also sprayed urine on every vehicle and hooch.”

“As cats do,” Raven said. She went over to look at him.

“As cats do.”

“He’s very handsome,” she agreed. “Definitely a caracal, and definitely different from modern breeds. His ears have more tuft, and the hair seems thicker, though with a single specimen I can’t make a solid call.”

Sheridan said, “We could check DNA from his fur.”

“Sure, good practice. He’s from that era, so he’s within our scope.”

Sheridan already had a few hairs and took them to be tagged.

They were an odd pair. Nerdy as all get out, but they obviously liked the cat as a cat, too. Sean thought he understood. The entire world was a puzzle for them to solve.

Sheridan said, “This plus the hide you guys brought back gives us two single specimens to compare against change rates. Which of itself doesn’t tell us much, but if we can find others, even different species, the delta R might give some hints as to climate-induced variance.”

He almost understood that.

He realized his brain was foggy for other reasons.

“Doc, Sergeant Spencer, I’m going to lie down early. I may be up early. Can you take charge until mandatory lights out at 2300, and wake me if needed?”

Doc nodded soberly and said, “I can, sir. And mandatory means no one wandering around after that. Sleeping quarters only, and make a solid effort to sleep. House can assist you.”

Spencer added, “I’ll back him up as needed.”

“Great, thanks.” Sean hit the latrine, walked to his couch. “Private, please,” he said. The walls turned opaque, he stripped to underwear, and said, “Dark,” as he crawled onto the couch and felt it soften into half bed, half recliner. It was utterly black.

“Can I get a soft lightshow, please?” he asked.

“Will a view of the evening stars please you?”

“That’s perfect, House, thank you.”

“You are welcome. Sleep well, Sean.”

Overhead, the sky turned to twinkling points of stars and deep washes of more distant ones. He tried to pick out any he recognized and fell asleep.


Rich Dalton liked the late morning. He was fresh and alert at 0700, House having tweaked the light and sound so he just woke up on his own. There was no PT scheduled, so he hit the latrine, changed into clean clothes, and went for breakfast.

“Hey, House, can I get steak and over-easy eggs with onion?”

“Certainly.”

“Thanks a bunch.”

He found a spot next to Dr. Sheridan, who was eating fruit and a single pancake. Next to her, Dr. Raven had scrambled eggs, a slab of ham, and very black coffee. Most of the troops had variations on pancakes and bacon or sausage, Sergeant Spencer had biscuits and gravy. That looked pretty good. Shug seemed thrilled with fresh strawberries and thick-cut bacon. The cat patrolled around, paws on laps, demanding tribute. He shrugged and gave the creature a bite.

Spencer took charge and said, “Soldiers—and we’re going to use that generic for our contractors, guest, and USAF element as well—we’ve got an hour. We’re familiarizing with Cogi equipment and some of us will be involved in planning the transition to find our lost element. Feel free to enjoy the hospitality, but unlike last time of reacculturating, we’re here for a mission, no matter how awesome the field conditions are at present. Do any cleanup you need. We should be ready fifteen minutes early.”

That was simple enough. He repacked some of his gear that got loose. Then he asked, “House, can I get these clothes cleaned?” He may as well have everything as neat as possible.

“Yes, please place them on the servace.”

“Servace. Serving surface?”

“That is correct.”

“Will do. Thank you very much.”

He hung out on a couch and did nothing while people took care of similar details. The clothes were back, clean and dry, in under five minutes.

Cryder arrived at exactly 0900, per the clock readout on the wall. He was in a gray field uniform that seemed to be separate blouse and pants, but melded together.

The man said, “If you’re ready, this way, please.”

He added, “Shug,” and the young man tensed. “Please stay here, the patron will help you.”

The captain led the way, Spencer brought up the rear after Rich. The contractor chicks were ahead. They followed a blinking light down the walkway, into a corridor, and outside into a clear day, sun rising. He got the impression it was early summer here.

He realized it was the first time he’d been outside in their world.


Shug wondered what he should do, with the Amercans away with the others. He had the entire large hut to himself.

“Do I what?” he asked.

The shaman said, “I can show pictures. Mountains? Trees?”

“Paintings of trees?”

“Better than paintings. Watch.”

The wall flickered as with sunlight, and Shug saw a mountain and forest. He said, “Ohh!” and ran over, only to bump into the wall.

It really was just a painting, but it was the most real painting he’d ever seen. It was nothing like a lodge or cave painting. It seemed completely real.

“River!” he said.

“Please explain.”

“Water moving on ground and rocks.” He waved his hands to demonstrate.

“I understand.”

At once, Shug saw a river so real he had to reach out and reassure himself this was still a painting on a wall.

How wonderful must the spirit world be, if this wasn’t it?

The fire was still burning, with the smoke all going away, no puffs to sting the eyes. He could bathe under hot rain any time he wished. Now was a good time. The strange clothes took some struggle. The flat toggles were awkward, and the zippar was a wonderful but strange thing.

He asked for more food, and the shaman said, “You should stop with sweets and eat meat and plants.” That was good advice. He almost felt ill from all the sweets.

Then he went back to the pictures, of anything he liked, any season, any weather. He could watch a beautiful bangstorm from here and stay dry. Snow-covered hills were even prettier when you didn’t have to stand in the cold.

It was a good day.


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