Nuworld: Claiming Tara (33 page)

“What is that?” Syra asked, twisting in her seat as they
drove by.
“Ruins from Oldworld.”
“We should stop.”
“I doubt we’d get a better view. A ruin like that is
probably protected.”
“Why would anyone care if it keeps standing? It was
pretty ugly.”
Tara laughed. “Yea, it was. But it’s good to keep in
perspective that other nations existed before us.”
“They must not have been very good warriors.”
“Or maybe they were too good of warriors.” She didn’t
want to think about what might happen if she and Darius
became enemies. It was one thing to think she might kill
him. Tara didn’t want to go down in history as being party
to destroying two nations.
Her heart once again constricted painfully in her chest.
She tried putting Darius out her head, once again, by
making mental notes as Semore began spreading out in
front of them.
Small flat buildings made out of white bricks lined each
side of the road. People walked on smooth, flat stone paths
on each side of the road. Tara saw more groundmobiles
than she’d ever seen at any one time. Semore definitely had
a lot more people in it than Bryton did.
Roads crossed over each other in Semore. As the roads
intersected each other, there were round, tall poles like
smooth tree trunks with no branches next to the paths
where
people
walked. These
tall poles weren’t wood,
though, but designed from metal, which she guessed made
them more durable. What struck her as odd were the lights
at the top of each pole. These lights changed color without
notice and the groundmobiles around her stopped, as if the
lights controlled them. It was similar to a child’s game
except every driver was very serious about it. When Tara
chose not to stop, other drivers around her began yelling.
“If I could understand a word they were saying I might
be forced to pull my laser on them,” Syra muttered.
“We aren’t here to fight but to try and fit in.”
Syra laughed when they were yelled at a third time, by a
driver who almost ran into them. “Might be hard to do
when we’re the only ones who don’t sound like we’re
singing when we’re talking. And we have white skin and
brown hair.”
Tara had never seen such dark skin. They had equally
dark hair. Everyone she spotted had black hair, really
shiny, inky black hair; some short and curly others had
long straight thick hair. They were beautiful people but
with quick tempers.
Her attention was drawn to oil pumps slowly moving in
and out of the ground at the edge of town. Oil was
something Runners and Gothman needed.
Ahead on the right, Tara spied a sign that she read
easily. It said, “
Rooms Available.
” Apparently they were
yelling the same language as hers, just with a thick accent.
She pulled the trailer into a parking area covered with
small red gravel.
A dark-skinned, fuzzy-haired old man with black eyes
and bushy eyebrows gave her an odd look. “Go to the edge
of town.” He pointed. “Go that way to the last house and
ask to park there.”
Tara drove to the place he’d specified—a large house set
back off the road. It had a flat-roofed open room covering
the front of the white clay building. The structure was
longer than it was wide. Beyond it, the land turned to sand
and seemed to stretch on forever. There were no buildings
or roads past the while clay, large house.
“Hello,” she said to a young woman leaning against a
counter just inside the house. “I need a place to park my
trailer for a short time.”
The young lady looked past Tara out the window at the
trailer. She studied it for a minute before studying Tara.
The woman’s hair was black as coal. She had it twisted in
the back in several braids. Her skin was also as dark as
night and her inky black eyes looked curiously at Tara.
“Where are you from?”
“North of here.”
“North? There isn’t much north of here. You live in that
trailer?”
The girl’s dialect was unlike anything Tara had heard
before. She liked it. The girl’s words ran together, sounding
almost melodic. It took listening carefully to understand
what she said.
“I do for now.” Tara smiled, knowing her voice must
sound equally strange. “I have a couple of babies. We’re
looking for a new life.”
“And you come to Semore?” This seemed to surprise the
girl. “Things aren’t good here right now. I mean, if you’re
looking for work, I don’t know if you’ll find any.”
“I’d like to try. May I park the trailer for just a few days?”
“I guess we can’t turn away a mama with babies. Pull it
around back and I’ll bring out the paperwork.”
Tara thanked her and parked the trailer in the indicated
spot.
The
young
girl came
out
the
back
door
within
minutes. She handed forms to Tara and peeked past the
open door of the trailer at Syra and the babies inside.
“I’ve never seen such blond curly hair before,” the girl
commented. “Where did you say you were from?”
Tara was saved
from answering
by two men who
appeared in the building’s doorway. Both were tall, with
dark skin and hair. One of the men, however, caught her
off guard. He had long black hair falling to his waist. He
was thin with broad shoulders and his black eyes were like
radiant jewels when he looked at her. The other man
gestured
for
the
girl
to
come
to
him,
and the
three
disappeared into the building, leaving Tara alone to fill out
the forms.
The girl appeared again before long and smiled shyly
when she stopped at the trailer door. “My husband wants
to know if someone is going to come after you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do you have money?”
“I have gold. I’ll exchange it if you tell me where I can do
that.”
She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary.”
The girl took three gold pieces and told her it would cost
the same amount for each day she was there. “You’re
welcome to join us for a midday meal shortly. You’ll hear
the bell ring when it’s ready.” The girl took the forms and
disappeared into the building.
Tara watched her walk away and wondered which of the
two men was her husband. She thought of Darius, then the
dark man with long hair and glowing eyes. Darius was
much better looking. She pushed both images out of her
head and went to her children.
The food was not identifiable, but it was good. The
couple served the meals, but didn’t eat with them. In fact,
over the next few days, Tara and Syra were not sought out
by any of the town folk. Nor did anyone pay much attention
to them, although their fair skin and sandy brown hair
made
them
conspicuous
among
the
dark-skinned
Neurians. Even Tara’s attempts at conversation in different
shops in Semore were unsuccessful. She’d never been more
politely ignored as she was by these people. Taffley had
said Semonians were friendly people. His knowledge came
from stories. Tara doubted he’d ever been here. Every
culture was different. As she paid for clothes that she
hoped would help her and Syra fit in better, the woman in
the shop accepted her gold without making eye contact or
saying a word.
“Everyone is different,” she mumbled as she carried her
packages to the hectic street and forced herself not to take
it personally.
The landlink system in Semore was quite elaborate. It
was connected
to
nearby
towns, and
Tara studied
everything there was to learn about these people. She
discovered that every citizen had a group of numbers
assigned to them. She was able to obtain a guest number
and visit many
of
the
local merchants through
their
networking system. Her frustration grew, however, when a
message continually appeared on the screen saying her
“guest status” did not allow her to view her selection. She
was
prevented
from
viewing
anything
about
their
government.
Every morning, Tara walked down the street to buy
papers sold at a corner stand. Newspapers were printed
each day. She read about the town’s current events, and
occasionally political news items, as well.
A quartercycle had passed since they’d parked the
trailer
by the
while
clay house.
Tara was lonely and
thinking of Darius as she walked back to her trailer. The
time frame he’d given her to return had expired. She’d
spoken to Patha every day, but he had never indicated he
knew of Darius’ threat. Darius hadn’t sent her any more
messages, and she wondered if he really would disown her,
as he’d put it.
She walked slowly along the street, reading the paper,
and looking for possible work. If she were home, there
would be plenty to do. But here, there wasn’t much call for
overseeing military training, or resolving conflicts among
clan members.
Briefly, she considered who would have assumed her
tasks among the Runners. Darius had learned a lot about
her people—had he taken on her responsibilities? If so,
how would her people react to Darius mediating a clan
dispute?
Tara stubbed her toe and let out a curse. Thinking of
Darius would not help her right now. Maybe Patha had
been right. He’d said she wouldn’t be able to fit into this
community easily.
As she half-heartedly scanned the paper, a new ad
caught her eye. An assistant was needed in one of the
government offices to do some landlink work. This was
exactly what she’d been looking for. Excited, Tara read the
ad again. She jumped back when she walked right into a
man coming toward her.
“I’m so sorry.” The man looked up from a landlink
printout, obviously thinking it was he who had not been
paying
attention.
He
seemed
to
contemplate
saying
something else.
“No, it’s my fault,” she began.
“You just arrived in Semore, haven’t you?” he asked
after some hesitation. He glanced around the street as if to
see if there was anyone watching. “Follow me.”
Tara followed out of curiosity. The man led the way
through a nearby door and down a poorly lit hall. She
guessed him five to ten winters older than she, very thin,
with black straight hair that fell to his shoulders. He
turned toward a closed door at the end of the hall, tapped
on it, then opened the door slowly.
Tara patted her pocket, reassured by the hard metal of
her laser.
The dark man glanced over his shoulder at her and
indicated with a slant of his head that she follow.
Tara entered
and faced
three
men,
the one she’d
followed, along with two others who sat by a desk in the
dimly lit room. One of the seated men was quite heavy; the
other had long silver hair pulled back into a ponytail. The
silver-haired man looked older than Patha.
They all stared.
She returned their stare, picking up on how nervous
they were.
“We, uh…” The man standing by her began speaking,
stopped, and looked at the two men sitting. “That is, um,
we know who you are.”
“That’s nice. But I don’t know who you are.” She forced
herself to appear unconcerned.
“Fleeders,” the tall man pointed to himself then to his
friends. “Snith and Tilk. We, uh, work here.”
The room was poorly lit with a useless overhead light
and a lamp next to the landlink. There was another desk in
the room with a landlink on it as well. The shelves lining
the walls were filled with landlink parts and discs. After
she’d studied the contents of the room, she turned to stare
to Fleeders. “Why did you bring me here?”
“To talk to you,” Tilk, the old man spoke up, and the
other two looked at him with worried glances. “We’ve been
monitoring your communications.”
“You’ve been what?”
“It’s our job,” Fleeders said hurriedly, his accent making
him harder to understand when his words spilled out. “We
understand that you’re not happy about this. But, we
monitor all landlink activity.”
“Gowsky has us do it.” Snith wiped sweat from his upper
lip. “It’s not really common knowledge, but we’ve been
through bad times.”
“We know you’re Tara, daughter of Patha, who is leader
of the Blood Circle Clan. You joined with the leader of the
Gothman, and you defeated the Sea People,” Fleeders said
awkwardly. He added quickly, “We know you’re not here to
hurt anyone.”
There was a chair next to the empty desk, and Tara sat
stretching her legs out in front of her and crossing her feet.
A small smile crossed her face. These men were terrified of
her!
As they should be. It would take nothing to kill all three
of them in this small office and return to the street without
anyone knowing it. For some reason, they wanted to speak
to her. For now, she tried looking as non-threatening as
possible.
“So why am I here?”
Tilk and Snith looked at Fleeders. So did Tara. He
cleared his throat again, something he’d done several times
now in the short time Tara had been in his presence.
“Gowsky learned you were here less than a quarter-cycle
ago. Maybe he’s known longer, I’m not sure. He’s convinced
you’re here to start some kind of revolution—take over the
Neurian Government.
We
were
asked
to
monitor
your
communications and give him a report at the end of the
half-cycle.”
Tara listened closely as Fleeders spoke. She still wasn’t
accustomed
to
their
singsong inflections. “So you’ve
monitored my communication. And…?”
“We don’t think you’re here to start anything,” Snith
said.
“We think you’re here out of curiosity,” Tilk said. “And to
get
even with your husband.” He mumbled
this last
sentence.
“You did make one comment about our oil.” Fleeders
looked at his friends, instead of her.
“So you know all about me.” Tara twisted in her chair
and looked at the landlink next to her. It was a lot bulkier
than a Runner landlink. The three men didn’t say anything
as she brought up the screen. It displayed a directory the
main landlink offered to every Neurian. Tara had already
accessed this on her landlink and was somewhat familiar
with its contents.