CHAPTER 20
Jenny Caswell was on the one hand bored, and on the other nervous about the shuffling around and low-grade conflict attempting to recover artifacts. If she’d been in charge, there’d be no discussion of conjugal visits and a quick relocation to the evac point, then if anything else was needed, return from there.
She conceded, though, that Elliott’s plan would work, and would make certain technical aspects easier to handle. Then, there was relocating Shug, and it wasn’t clear which direction he needed to go, nor how far.
In the meantime, the interactions made her curious about some science matters.
She watched Sheridan and Raven under their awning doing what was clearly fieldwork, with a lot of samples from the troops, the recoverees, local flora and fauna. She hadn’t considered how many possible things could be sampled, but it made sense that everything that evolved slightly, especially fast-mutating things like bacteria, and edible plants. She waited until they took a short break.
Sheridan was usually friendlier, but Raven was closer and seemed amiable enough. She approached.
“Dr. Raven, you said something about compatibility.”
“I did? Oh, that.” The woman leaned back and adjusted her gloves. They had fingers that folded aside for typing, that she pulled back over for warmth. It was a chilly day, sitting still in the wind, even with partial cover.
She asked, “Did you mean these people are not biologically compatible with us?”
“That seems to be the case. First, most of our people are Rh positive. They’re also largely A and AB types. The locals are Rh negative, a huge problem for the females, and mostly B type, a partial problem. Then there’s literally dozens of other relevant factors, and I gather a slight difference in ovum implantation. It’s a wonder Kita survived. We suspect the ‘strong periods’ Oyo experienced were in fact early miscarriages. She also apparently has a bicornuate uterus. She’s lucky she didn’t die of what’s basically an ectopic.”
“On the one hand, that’s terrible. On the other, not having kids simplifies things.”
“For the extraction, yes. It just complicated my professional career exceedingly.”
“I’m sorry.”
She smiled with a slight shake of her head. “Don’t be. That means knowledge and more research.”
“Ah.” Though that meant she’d acquired knowledge relevant to her field, but couldn’t share the source back home.
“It’s fascinating.”
Jenny asked, “Is your personal background part of where your interest in genetic groups came from?”
“How do you mean?”
“You mentioned the reservation.”
Raven glanced up, and replied, “Oh. I was born on the rez, but raised entirely white.”
“Which nation?”
“Cherokee reservation, but I’m Natchez.”
“Ah. I recall you shared space?”
The woman replied, “If you mean we have no land of our own, yes.”
She hadn’t meant to hit a touchy subject. “I’m sorry.”
Raven shrugged. “No language, either. Natchez has no native speakers, only a half dozen second language speakers.”
“So you used Cherokee.”
“I suppose I might have if I lived on the rez long enough. I’m told I used it early on. I don’t know a word of either, now. Nothing about them. Cherokee is agglutinative, hard to learn, and almost extinct, too.”
“One of those colonial aggressions that people aren’t even aware of.”
The woman wrinkled her brow. “Eh? It’s human typical.”
“It is for nonwhite populations, yes.”
“‘Nonwhite’? Ask the Irish, Welsh, and Scots about the English. Ask the Sami about the Finns and Swedes. Or the Bretons and Normans about the French. Populations displace, repress, enslave, absorb, and eliminate one another with dreary regularity. I apparently have an Irish ancestor, but I don’t know anything about him, either. My genetic profile says there’s African in here, too.”
She pointed, and Jenny realized Raven was indicating her face. Yes, just barely. Her features overall were dark-skinned and high-cheeked, but her lips were slightly full, her nose just a little flat, and her eyes a bit round.
“Then there’s what the Lakota did to the Pawnee and Omaha, and the Azteca to everyone around them. No one has a corner on violence. Once I tried to draw a map, based on a hundred subjects and their analyses. It turned into a tangled ball of yarn very quickly, complicated by the fact that Amerind profiles are almost nonexistent.”
Jenny didn’t catch that. “How’s that?”
Raven said, “If you get a commercial genetic test, they are largely based on an incomplete set of too few subjects with no purebloods. They don’t even show Natchez, Choctaw, Seminole, or a bunch of others. Nor most of the West and Northern populations.”
“Geez.”
The scientist shrugged. “All we can do is keep trying to reconstruct it. We’ve done amazingly well with the little data available.”
Jenny changed tack. “What do you know about the locals?”
“Not much yet, until I get the samples back home for better testing. It’s very likely, though, that they do share a common ancestor with the groups presently crossing Beringia. Which we knew, but this refines it slightly. I just hope someday I can publicize that finding, if we can come up with a way to justify how we found it.”
“Is that possible?”
Raven leaned back and explained, “One of the ‘finds’ a couple of years ago was the hide your team brought back. We claimed the hairs had been found frozen in the Himalayas. Which isn’t local enough for solid science, but is good enough for a close approximation, which is all anyone would ever see.”
“I could learn a lot from you. I wish I had better skills in STEM.”
“Not everyone does.”
“I couldn’t get past chemistry and physics. I managed trig but struggle too much with calculus.”
Raven nodded. “Yes, calc and organic chem are essential for this sort of work.”
“I tried.”
Raven glanced from the screen and noted, “Few men and fewer women can. It’s a brain-mapping issue.”
Jenny bristled. Sheesh. “There’s no reason women can’t do as well as men.”
Raven shook her head. “There absolutely is. The same reason men are better, on average, at spatial relations.”
“That should just be environment.”
“It sort of is. You notice here the local hunters have the entire area mentally mapped, are very good at throwing spears to point of aim, and can sit doing nothing, silently, for hours. Conversely, the women browse for edibles while chattering to keep contact with one another and children, or while in camp. They’re evolving that brain mapping as we speak, and have been for millennia.”
This highly educated, brilliant scientist was a strong, self-assured woman, and had just kicked Jenny’s own education to the curb and stomped on it. A woman with how many STEM degrees didn’t think women could handle it?
Raven continued, “Then, even in this field, I constantly have to make it clear I’m one of the guys, don’t hold back on language, or the men get resentful of me in their territory. And there’s often a grabby jerk. So a lot of women get into the field and then get out.”
“Right. That’s a lot of it.”
“That keeps some women out of it, but it doesn’t change the parameters.”
“I guess not.”
At least she knew why there weren’t more cross-bred children. And that Raven was a very weird sort of feminist. But then, she’d completely dismissed the repression her ancestors suffered. Culturally, they didn’t exist, and Raven wasn’t really bothered. Or was it just a coping mechanism?
If Dr. Raven of several advanced degrees was that blasé, what were the odds of ever educating the general public?
Midmorning, a lone hunter came to the wards and called for attention. At a nod from Elliott, Dan Oglesby went over with Shug and Hamilton.
He was starting to get a bit of a handle on the language, but he let the native and the second handle the discussion, while he provided transliteration to the captain.
Hamilton said, “Argarak wants exchange. If three are here, he wants three back. Especially the dark woman and the red…Caswell.”
Elliott said, “Well, he can want all he wants. I’ll send the three I choose. Make it politely clear that our spirit guides absolutely do not allow our females to be shared, and will send lightning bolts and death if they try.”
“I’m not sure how to phrase that.”
Dan said, “Just tell him directly that while we wish good terms and will send a party in response, they will be to guarantee safety, and absolutely cannot interact. They are sworn to others back home, which is true, and our spirits will punish violators.”
“I’ll try.”
To Elliott, Dan said, “You may have to send a larger, better-equipped party.”
“Like we did with the Romans, yes.”
Hamilton said, “He’s not buying it.”
Elliott looked at Dan with a look that told him to continue. Shrugging, he said, “Tell him the only people who would suffer are his women who were mated, who won’t be able to say goodbye. We’ll manage either way. Offer another jug of liquor.”
There was more back and forth.
“He says he’ll have to talk to Argarak and get back to us.”
“Then he should do so. Give him a nice piece of steak to eat on the way. Thank him for his efforts on everyone’s behalf.”
The emissary was pleased with the meat and said so with thanks. He left, and the Americans went back to the HQ.
Dan got to see a very tense discussion on the matter.
Elliott said, “This is the first go-round of the deal. Argarak wants you ladies as trade goods. I was very clear up front that will not happen.” He shook his head and made a cutting motion with his hand. “He was told you’re both spoken for, and our spirits will punish transgression.”
Sheridan replied, “Thank you.”
“However, I would like to send one of the scientists to finish their samples and ensure the goods are accounted for. I’d also like to send Sergeant Caswell as backup. If I send one more, I’m not sure two troops and a civilian can handle it if it gets bad. If I send too many, it looks like a raid.”
Cryder said, “If Arnet goes separately, behind our camouflage screen, then he and another can provide support if needed.”
“So, combine what we discussed earlier. I like it. That means four combat effectives plus one more set of eyes.”
Raven said, “If I go, I can take Spencer’s Glock. They might not recognize that as being like the other weapons.”
“Good. But I was thinking of sending Sheridan, since it’s not who he wants—”
“‘She,’” Caswell put in.
“Grammar. I’m sorry. Since she’s not who he wants. Also, she wasn’t in the last raid.”
Sheridan said, “I can do it.”
Caswell asked, “What are my rules of engagement, sir?” There was a slight prickle in her voice.
“The minimum necessary, but I want our rules enforced. They do not touch our women in any nonprofessional fashion.”
The woman seemed relieved. “Thank you.”
“Oglesby,” Elliott said as he faced Dan. “You’re going since you can translate a little.”
“So can the translation gadget. Dalton’s much better in a fight.”
“Yes, so Dalton will be going with Arnet as backup. And if I can, I’m slipping Doc in with you.”
“That only leaves you, Spencer, and Cryder here. And Dr. Raven.”
“We’ll be fine. This all depends on them agreeing.”
A shout sounded. The envoy had returned. Dan hurried back with Shug, Hamilton, and Elliott.
Hamilton said, “He agrees to an exchange on those terms. He doesn’t want any magic devices brought. Clothing only.”
“Is he guaranteeing their safety on whatever they use as an oath?”
“That’s the tone he used. I haven’t known him to lie.”
“Okay, we can start this evening if he has people ready. I’ll send an escort with each female, unarmed, but with a bag of their own supplies. He can inspect.”
“That seems agreeable.”
“Then we’ll wait for the three mates and their escort.”
“You’ll have to sleep on the ground and eat their food,” Elliott advised.
Dan shrugged. That was easy for him for twenty-four hours. “Hooah, sir.”
Caswell looked a bit tense.
“I’d much rather be armed,” she said.
“He only ruled out magic weapons.”
Caswell said, “True. I wonder if Spencer has another big knife I can carry.”
“If not, I’m sure Arnet can fab one.”
Raven added, “I always carry a machete in my gear, for clearing brush, and romantic interludes.”
She did have a sense of humor, after all. It just didn’t surface often.
Sheridan said, “I better load up on ibu. I’m going to ache badly tomorrow.”
“Gather what you need to.”
“Well, delousing powder, when we get back.”
“Easy,” Arnet assured her.
Shortly, the exchange party floated up the hill. Three women, obviously made up for presentation. All young. One very, very young. As they got closer, it was clear they had their hair dressed and tied up in buns atop their heads, not behind. They wore makeup of a sort, dark streaks out from their eyes, and reddish around their lips. How long had that been a thing?
They were also wearing garb that obviously came off fast. One of them looked a lot like a dark-haired Wilma Flintstone, complete with toggles on the white dress. The fur wraps completed the look.
Jenny was tense as all hell. The exchange was scary enough. Going without weapons terrified her. She had her utility knife and a larger one from SFC Spencer, almost a machete. That was something. And he kept it sharp.
Dr. Sheridan had a big dagger from somewhere, very pretty. The blade looked sturdy enough. Oglesby had a machete, and she wasn’t as comfortable with him as she could be. He’d thought he was flirting that one time, and she wasn’t interested.
Two hunters waited with the three local wives. They stood patiently.
Oglesby said, “I guess we step out first. Sergeant Caswell?”
She was nominally in charge, though Oglesby would have to translate and Sheridan wasn’t really in chain of command, but attached.
“Let’s do it,” she agreed, trying not to stutter.
She led the way through the fence.
The three women took that as a cue to enter.
That third one…
Sheridan asked, “God, what is she, thirteen?”
Jenny said, “Maybe. They age faster than we do. Lozano did say he liked them young.”
Sheridan commented, “That’s not uncommon in a primitive society, but decidedly creepy among ours.”
“Yeah.” No wonder he was more comfortable here, if that was his fetish. Yuck.
The hunters split, one leading, one following. As the element walked away with them, Jenny went completely cold and emotionless. The deal was no one would touch her.
She didn’t trust that deal.
At the very least, she expected Argarak was going to figure the three of them were more valuable to the captain than the three wives of his newcomers were to him, and try to push a hard bargain.
At worst, he’d already expressed a fascination with her.
It’s the red hair, she thought. I really should dye it dark brown for this. I’ll check with Arnet.
Breedable women were valuable to these societies. Exotic-looking women—older ones with Alexander’s busty figure on the last trip, unusual ones with red hair, different skin, or full figures—had societal and status value. Though apparently Argarak had a nice racist streak and didn’t like black women. But that worked out better for Oyo, so take the bad with the good.
She tried to get her brain onto paying attention to the route and movement.
“I hope those two guys are behind us,” she said softly to Oglesby.
Sheridan said, “We also have a drone.” She started to point, suddenly jerked her arm back, apparently realizing what she was doing. She ran it through the side of her hair. Good recovery.
They trudged the six kilometers down and around to the village. Argarak was at his throne, so to speak. It was the same spot in front of the fire he’d been at last time. It was interesting that textiles of processed fibers were starting to appear, as both fishing nets and clothing.
Oglesby struggled through a greeting, apparently comprehensible. Jenny recognized about five words, badly mutilated from their previous trip. This language was related but not the same as that one, and both would be utterly gone soon, long before any root of modern languages came about.
It turned into a back-and-forth, with Oglesby being insistent on something, then more so. He stepped closer to her.
She heard him mutter, “Play along.”
He wrapped an arm around her and she forced herself not to tense up, understanding the ploy. Sheridan shuffled in and reached around both of them. He kissed her, but it was the corner of her mouth only, and the edge of Sheridan’s at the same time. From not far away it was obviously an intimate gesture, and might even appear explicit.
There was finally some sort of acquiescence, and one of the senior women stepped forward.
Oglesby said, “Okay, I told him we were mates. He wanted the two of you in one lodge, and me in with the single men. That wasn’t going to happen.”
“Thank you,” she said. Yeah, that’s where she figured it would start. And would it end with some late-night visitors?
They were led to a guest lodge, barely big enough for them to sleep, with a log for sitting on inside at the rear. It was already dusky outside, dim inside.
He continued, “I want us to rotate on watch all night. Dr. Sheridan, can you do that?”
Apparently he’d forgotten who was nominally in charge, too, but it did make sense.
Jenny said, “I’ll set watch for us. Make sure they have food for us, and try to make it stuff we’ll eat.”
“Hooah. I’ll do that while you get settled in.”
Sheridan asked, “Are they going to expect us to be noisy love bunnies like they did the lieutenant?”
“It’s one night, I’m not even pretending to play along.” That idiot Cole had established an entirely bad precedent.
A faint buzzing sounded.
“That’s the drone,” Sheridan said. “At least one. I gather there’s something smaller and unmentioned along.”
“I hope so. Do we know where our escort is? If they are?”
Arnet’s voice sounded quietly from the bottom edge of the woven wall, away from the door.
“We are nearby, in observation. Everything will be kept as agreed and low key until the guests leave the fence. If we’re able to grab anything then, we will. Otherwise, there will likely be two more visits in rotation.”
Jenny muttered, “I’m afraid to ask how much of our private activity is observed.”
Arnet-via-drone said, “Only what is necessary for security concerns, and of that, I only see what the system can’t interpret or deems needs a human in the loop.”
“Thanks, I think.” On the one hand, it didn’t really bother her to take a leak around other soldiers. On the other, video was a different issue.
Argarak’s word was apparently good. A woman brought food to them on platters made of split, carved wood. Other than that, no one interfered, but Jenny did notice more guards than previously, including one behind and one in front of the hut.
The food was okay. Meat with a little salt, some sort of edible tuber with some herbs, and some green leafy stuff that didn’t taste like much of anything. They had some iron rations in their packs, including something like a superdense sugar cookie and nut bars.
Latrine breaks involved all three of them trudging to the edge of the clearing where the designated area was, avoiding recent fecal drops, carefully not watching one another while making it look as if they were not-not watching one another, because modesty wasn’t a thing here, then hiking back.
The Byko sleeping mats, thin as they were, worked very well even on the packed earth floor of the hut. It wasn’t bad, just boring. She had nothing to read, little to occupy her time. Sheridan was educated, but it was easy to see why Raven didn’t care for her. She was nattering on about some Doctor Who episode and someone else’s fanfic about it.
Sheridan took a break with, “I just wonder what kind of stories these people will have from it all.”
Jenny replied, “Ideally, none. They shouldn’t be aware of anything other than some strangers visited with strange stuff they couldn’t describe.”
“Right, but there’s so much of that in history.”
Jenny agreed, “Lots of cultures have mythology or fiction. The early ones weren’t aware they were asking ‘what if,’ but that’s what they were doing. Like that Doctor Who episode.”
“Doctor…oh, no, Blake’s Seven. Though there was a Red Dwarf time travel arc. It’s actually relevant to—”
“I’ve seen it,” Jenny said. “I’m not really up to talking about it now, though.”
“Sure. I wish we did have video or books or something. Heck, I could be crunching numbers on our findings.”
“Can Raven take some of the slack while you’re here?”
The woman admitted, “Oh, easily. In fact, this should be a one-person job, but it is a valid idea to have another for backup and POV, and just so the science section isn’t a single attached woman. There’s nothing she’s doing that I can’t do, and we’ve had to rerun a couple of experiments.”
“She mentioned. How did those come out?”
“The same way, but I thought we needed better documentation of process.”
More likely you didn’t understand it. Though I shouldn’t be critical. I wouldn’t grasp it, either. Jenny didn’t like a lot of Raven’s ideas, but at least they were coherent arguments.
Oglesby was mostly silent. He and she did not get along well, though she wasn’t afraid of him this time. She probably shouldn’t have been last time, but he was never good at reading people’s signals.
They took a latrine break at 2230, using thin visors of Byko night vision rather than artificial light.
It was stuffy and cold in the hut, even with the walls made of woven twigs. The night lasted forever, but the bag was warm enough. The air outside was brisk, but the bag included a light mesh that ensured oxygen and CO2 transfer, while retaining warmth.
Morning came, and they were given a roasted fish. It was a river trout or similar that had been in leaves in clay in the coals all night. It needed salt, and she had some, and then it was quite tasty. Moist without being wet, and hot. That felt good in the chilly air.
It was near 1000 when the guests from up the hill returned. Oglesby made their courtesies as Jenny covered him, and Sheridan stuffed the sleeping bags into their compact containers. Then they walked.
About a kilometer up the path, the air shimmered for a second and Arnet appeared in front of them, walking. She meeped and kept moving. She looked back and Dalton was there. The two closed in.
“Damn,” Dalton said. He was wet with sweat. “So, you hide yourself entirely, even electronically, and it gets hot, fast. I was leaning against a tree all night, with a motion sensor to hide me when anything big enough came along.”
“It has a sensitivity setting,” Arnet said with apparent mirth.
“Yeah, I’m not gamer enough to figure it out.”
“You did the crect thing to avoid overheating.”
“I guess I can get more practice later.”
“Since we have to do this twice more, yes.”
Jenny really hoped they were swapping off. Two more days of this would be more arduous than a ruck march, all of it mental.
Sheridan said, “We didn’t get to actually look or trade for anything we needed to recover.”
Rich Dalton was wired and tired from that all night op. He wondered if Doc might have something to help. The fatigue was there to stay, but the overall ache was awful, and he wasn’t young enough to pretend otherwise.
He checked in with SFC Spencer, who said, “Sure, go see Doc.” He turned to the other vehicle and its awning, where Doc and Arnet were discussing something.
“Doc, minor issue?”
“What is it?”
He explained, and Arnet said, “If you don’t mind, I have something for it.”
“I don’t mind. Doc?”
“Go right ahead. I’ve got ibu, some topicals, and Flexeril.”
Arnet nodded and offered, “If you take this, you’ll feel better at once.”
The man flipped a tiny vial out, and Rich took it. He knew to pinch the top to open it, and drank, knowing whatever it was would taste decent. This one was pineapple.
At once he did start feeling better. The aches were fading, the discomfort from the gear, the abrasions that the sweat stung itched less. Even the fatigue burned away and clarity returned.
“Dang. That’s good stuff. What is it?”
“General operational enhancer we use in the field. I can only administer one dose every five days for no more than forty days. For a second dose in five days I’d need consent from Cryder. For three, it would have to be life or death humping out of a bad zone.”
“The one should be fine. Thanks. That’s amazing.”
“You’re welcome. Expect to be very hungry in an hour, and to sleep heavily tonight. You should go to bed an hour early as well.”
Doc said, “I’ll clear that with the captain. Take it as scrip.”
“Hooah, Doc. And thanks again, Arnet.”
“Noprob.”
Sergeant Spencer came up to check something, and nodded as he entered the overhang.
Looking over at the detention tent, he asked, “Lozano had his…woman come in?”
Doc said, “Girl. Yes. And she obviously adores him.”
Raven said, “That’s not terribly surprising under the circumstances. Outsider, effective hunter. Apparently better hung than the local males.”
“Woah, TMI.”
She was grinning as she said, “That’s from verifiable reports and my own observations. You guys probably all have about an inch on them.”
“Well, there are all kinds of jokes there.”
“Hanging there,” Doc grinned and emphasized dramatically. “Dangling and waiting. Pendulous. Standing by proudly. Stiff at attention.”
He laughed at that. “Yeah, seriously though. She was willing?”
Spencer said, “Very. He made her come alright. Loudly. Fucking disturbing to hear a girl that young panting and screaming.”
“Good,” he said, and added, “I mean, I’m glad you don’t approve.”
The man looked really disturbed. “My daughter’s older than that and I wouldn’t want to hear it.”
He asked, “Are we doing it again?”
“The captain is hoping the exchange establishes our status and disinterest in Argarak’s people.”
“I hope so, too.”
Spencer said, “I almost wonder if we’d be better off leaving them here and calling them dead. They’re at least as fucked up as someone coming out of decades in jail.”
Rich noted, “Or a long hostage situation. We can’t leave them.” As screwed up as they were, they had to go home. Not just professionally, but morally.
Spencer agreed, “I know. There are good reasons we can’t. But they’re never going to recover. Hell, I’m still twitchy.”
Raven said, “They’ll need therapy for a long time. We’ll have compiled notes for the mental health staff.”
Martin was at the gate point when another pair of women and a man arrived with their escorts, just in time for dinner. They were agog at the vehicles, amazed at the tents, and leery of the wards and future weapons. They greatly appreciated the crab and turkey synthesis that Cryder served. Around unmannered mouthfuls, the women jabbered away with Uhiara and Burnham, though the two had made it clear they weren’t going to be intimate with their now former mates. Oyo’s partner was actually rather handsome, with styled hair and beard, great muscle definition. Some of the beard and buff subcultures would have been all over him.
Elliott said, “So that wraps this up.” Hamilton and Keisuke didn’t have mates. They lacked the status. That partly explained why they were eager to get home.
Noirot replied, “I don’t have anyone right now.” Her expression was partly wistful, partly relieved, and partly frustrated, probably at losing her status as a goodwill ambassador.
He wanted to cheer her up and keep her focused on family. “Well, you’ll have plenty of time with Kita, and we’ll try to keep things entertaining and friendly.”
The girl heard her name, smiled at everyone, and hugged her mother some more. She really was a cute thing.
Oyo said, “I can give Breotah a proper thank-you, I guess.”
Martin said, “Oh? I hadn’t heard you mention him.”
She shrugged. “I did in my debrief. I guess it’ll be the right thing to say goodbye, but I was mostly hooked up because you have to have a mate, and none of the others were anyone I’d want to be with. I’ll make it good for him, though. He’s been kind. He even asks about home.”
“What have you told him?”
With an ironic smile, she said, “Well, the languages are a barrier, and I can’t explain most things other than magic. Magic pictures. Magic sleds to travel on. Things like that.”
Caswell arrived and said, “That’s harmless enough. At worst they become myths, and mutate into even less fathomable tales that mean nothing.”
He looked at her again.
“You changed your hair.” It was now a medium brown color, and just like that she was far less remarkable, though of course, he had years of interaction with her as a redhead.
“Yes, Sergeant. The red was getting too much attention. I’ll finish this trip as a brunette. Arnet had a wash he says will last a week, and I can just do it in the shower.”
“I can see that. The locals always pay attention to you.”
“That doesn’t even begin to describe how uncomfortable it is, but I think you get the idea.”
“Absolutely. The color is within regs and we’re under special circumstances anyway. No issue. I was just surprised.”
“I cleared it with the captain already,” she said, with a bit of snap in her voice.
“Sorry. I was trying to be reassuring.”
“No offense taken,” she said, sounding a bit less irritated.
Keisuke commented, “It’s probably a good thing we didn’t actually interact with the other group.”
“Other group?” Wait, this was interesting, probably important.
The soldier said, “Yeah, later than this group, not Stone Age.”
To verify, Martin asked, “Another displaced group?”
The man nodded. “We think so. They were wearing cloth and had swords.”
That was rather important information to have.
Overhearing, Elliott asked, “Where?”
“West of here.” He pointed.
Martin quickly asked, “What type of swords?”
“I dunno. Swords.”
He raised an open hand and tried not to sound annoyed. This was easy for him, but obviously not for others. He asked, “Rapier hilts? Cross guards? Small guards?”
“About that long.” Keisuke indicated a bit less than three feet with spread hands. “Oh, and shields.”
Sighing, Martin asked, “What shape?”
“Round.”
“Iron or bronze swords? Sorry, I need details.”
“Steel, I guess. White metal, shiny.”
Martin said, “Dark Ages or Middle Ages, probably.”
Caswell asked, “You don’t interact with them?”
He shrugged. “We both tried a bit. We didn’t get their language and they didn’t get ours. They didn’t know any local words last time we crossed paths. We just sort of wave at each other.”
Martin said, “That’s going to be tough.”
Elliott asked, “Can you speak to them?”
Shaking his head, he said, “Not much. I learned enough Icelandic to read the Sagas, but I never learned to pronounce it, and I forgot most. I list my skill level as ‘survival skills only.’ Most of those are modern words. They won’t be the same as Old Norse, and if they’re some other Germanic tribe, I won’t know more than a handful of written words, if they have anyone literate. I do have a copy of the Ogham alphabet. If it’s Old English, I might do slightly better. If it’s Rus or something else, no dice. And then they might be proto Finno-Ugric, Samoyedic, Hungarian, or something else and I’ll have no fucking clue.”
“You could have just said, ‘No.’”
He shrugged slowly with a faint grin. “Well, it’s not a complete no, and I’ll try, but we have to meet them first.” He turned to Keisuke. “How far west?”
“Dunno. Less than twenty miles, for certain. Probably less than fifteen.”
Elliott said, “We will definitely have to take that up ASAP, after the grave recovery.”