The Space Between (7 page)

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Authors: Scott J Robinson

Tags: #fantasy, #legend, #myth folklore, #spaceopera, #alien attack alien invasion aliens

BOOK: The Space Between
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"Oh, so suddenly you speak English? How
surprising. I went because I didn't want to sit in the forest
playing games."

"I no understand much. Games?"

"Yes, games."

"I know not this."

Kim sighed.

"Think you I speak English?"

"Obviously you do."

"Now, yes. Before, no."

"Yeah, right. Go play with someone else."
Kim turned to look out over the field as a trumpeter, bright blue
feather in his floppy hat, blew a fanfare.

"Play?" Meledrin said. “[These people talk
in circles. And backwards and forwards.]” At the bottom of the
slope, Keeble grunted and shrugged, paying more attention to the
arriving spectators than the conversation. Kim tried to ignore
everyone. “[It will take forever to understand them.]”


[I can barely
understand
you
half the time.]” Keeble fiddled with the gears on his
mechanical hand.

"I no speak English before. Learn. Listen,
follow. Much speak." She gestured at the growing crowd around them.
"Elves have language knowledge. Learn quick."

As more people started to arrive Keeble
moved to sit beside his friend. Kim considered returning to her
car.

"I no speak English. When enter from..."
Meledrin stopped and pointed at a tree.

"Tree."

She shrugged. "Tree? When enter from tree I
knowing words you say. Elf and dwarf you say. What?"


[What's all this talk of
elves?]” Keeble asked.

Kim ignored Keeble's gibberish, answering
Meledrin. "Because that's obviously what you're supposed to
be."


[You haven't seen elves
around here, have you, Meledrin?]”

"Supposed? What 'supposed'?"


[I don't like elves. All
that singing and poetry.]”

"Meant. That's what you want people to
think."

"Ah. If we supposed elf and dwarf, why
not?"


[Poetry won't get you
through the winter. It won't make life easier.]”

Kim was ignoring Keeble because she had no
idea what he was saying. Meledrin seemed to consciously avoid
looking his way.

Kim tried to gather her thoughts. "You
aren't an elf because this isn't Midkemia or Middle Earth. It's
just plain old Earth." Kim thought that maybe the man really was a
dwarf. Under a meter fifty, wasn’t it? She didn't know. He had to
be close but she was pretty sure that wasn't what Meledrin
meant.

"Why think?"

"Because he's short and squat and hairy. And
you're tall and thin and pale."

"If that description elf, why I not?"

"Because they don't exist."

"Don't exist?"

"Aren't real."

"Ahh. I sorry hear. How say? Other elves
knowing will not be please not existing, I think."

"I'm sure."

"What make elf else?"

Like a large portion of the
world Kim had read
Lord of the
Rings
and seen the movies, but it had been
a while ago. "Pointy ears. They all have pointy ears. And an
affinity with trees and forests. Skill at archery."

"Pointy ears?"

Kim made a triangle with her fingers and
held it up to her ear. "Pointy ears." She didn't know why she was
bothering. Just trying to be polite again.

"Ah." Meledrin pushed her hair away from her
own ear. It wouldn't be used for impaling fruit, but it was
pointy.

"Huh." Kim said. "The makeup guy needs an
Oscar as well." It looked very real.

Meledrin was moving on though. "What
affinity? And what archery?"

"Affinity is a close connection. A
link."

"Connection? Link?"

"And archery is that." Kim pointed out onto
the cricket field where three of the archers were lining up facing
the targets that were down in front of the grand stand. They seemed
to be using handmade recreations of traditional weapons.

"Archery? Ah." Meledrin climbed to her feet
and stepped lightly through the crowd. “[An opportunity to order my
thoughts, if nothing else.]”

"Where's she going?" Kim decided the woman
was quite possibly insane and should be stopped. She jumped to her
feet and followed, though not nearly as gracefully.

"Sorry. Coming through. Sorry."

A string of muttered curses and surly oaths
followed her path, and the sound swelled as Keeble barged along
behind. She stumbled down to the fine leg boundary and hurried
towards the archers.

Meledrin, calm and assured, was talking to
the first of the men when Kim arrived.

"...use archery?"

"Pardon?"

"Will let me use..." she seemed to realize
that she hadn't used the word 'archery' correctly and simply
gestured to the bow.

"You want to use my bow?"

"Your bow? Yes."

"Sorry, love, can't let you do that. I put a
lot of time and effort into this bow. Almost eighteen months. I
can't afford to get it damaged. We'll be showing people how to use
bows later though. Come back then."

"I not damage bow. I skilled, but friend Kim
not..."

"Believe," Kim suggested, sighing and
shaking her head. "Think it's true."

"Not believe." Meledrin nodded her thanks.
"I use once? If not believe, give back."

The next archer in line cleared his throat.
"Let her have a go, Bill. What harm can she do with you standing
there watching?"

"You let her use yours then."

"Sure. Okay." The next man held out his bow
for Meledrin to take, eying her slim form appreciatively as he did
so. Ulterior motives abounded. "Here, Ma'am. Try mine."

Kim sighed and shook her head again.

Meledrin bowed her thanks, a graceful
maneuver that left the receiver gaping, then stepped lightly
forward. Before she took the weapon she pulled her hair back into a
thick ponytail and tied it with a green ribbon pulled from her
sleeve.

"Fine bow," she said in a hushed voice. She
wove her hand in another of the strange, intricate patterns then
finally took the bow. She plucked an arrow from the man's quiver,
muttering under her breath, and nocked it as she tested the tension
of the string. Kim watched silently. She knew almost nothing about
archery, but the other woman seemed sure and confident.

"Where?" Meledrin gestured vaguely.

For a moment Kim wasn't sure what she meant.
"The targets?" She looked to the right. "The targets are just
there."

"There?" Meledrin laughed.
"But they
there
."

The man who had loaned her his bow shook his
head. "What did you expect?"

"I not use that close target since
child."

The first archer laughed. "Show us then,
love."

Keeble looked bored, standing and shuffling
his feet at all the talk he apparently couldn't understand. He was
muttering something under his breath.

Meledrin raised the bow, drawing the arrow
back to her cheek. "A fine bow," she said again. "But wrong weight
slightly." With that she let fly and, a moment later, the arrow
struck the target, dead center.

The crowd surrounding the field, growing
restless with the wait, clapped loudly. Some cheered and whistled.
Kim looked from Meledrin to Keeble and back again.

A couple of the archers still waiting their
turn whistled appreciatively.

The owner of the bow
cleared his throat. "The weight
isn't
out, actually," he said. "I'm
left-handed."

"Left-handed?"

"Yeah." The man mimed using the bow
left-handed.

"Oh, yes. Should known." Meledrin plucked
another arrow from the quiver and, using the bow left handed, put
the second arrow into the target, right beside the first. She
nodded in satisfaction. "That much better. Fine bow."

There was more cheering from the crowd and
more gaping from the archers.

"I not prove tree affinity, Kim, so would
like I do else?" With a muttered phrase, the woman took another
arrow and turned to look towards the other end of the cricket
field. "What is that?" she asked, gesturing.

"What?" The breeze was chasing a plastic bag
across the outfield on the other side of the pitch. It was about a
hundred and fifty meters away. "That's just a bag. Rubbish."

"Rubbish? Not important?"

"That's right."

Meledrin raised the bow, drew and fired in
one smooth motion. She hardly seemed to aim at all. A couple of
seconds later, the arrowed pinned the bag to the outfield.

The owner of the bow was impressed.
"Wow."

Kim was impressed.

Meledrin didn't seem to think anything of
it. "Need help, Kim. My people killed now."

"What?"

"Think you that perhaps these warriors
assist, if spoke you with them?"

"Which warriors?"

Meledrin gesture at the archers and then
some of the armored figures who'd taken part in the earlier mock
battles.

"They aren't warriors. They're just people
in costumes."

"What costumes?"

"A costume is... What am I saying? You're in
a costume, you daft woman."

"You still not believe?"

"No."

Meledrin took Kim by the arm in a firm but
gentle grip and started to lead her away, back towards the main
green and the Major Oak beyond.

"Wait a minute. What's going on here?" Kim
said, twisting free. Meledrin reacted, but an instant too late, and
she could do nothing. As Kim dropped instinctively into a fighting
crouch, Meledrin looked shocked. Keeble was smiling slightly.

One of the warriors standing nearby, a big
man with shining armor and a long sword, stepped forward to assist.
It was Sir Douglas, from earlier, seeing another opportunity, Kim
supposed. He was about fifty centimeters taller than Keeble, but he
stood in front of Douglas and didn't back down. Apparently the
little man's amusement only went so far when it came to
violence.

Kim tried to divide her glance between
Keeble and Meledrin, not sure who she should be worried about.
Meledrin was obviously in charge, but the time had come for
action.

"Please, Kim. Come, I show. You believe."
Meledrin bowed her head slightly and waved her fingers.

"This is just crazy."

"Perhaps, Kim. But there perhaps be more
—"


[Forget it, Meledrin,]”
Keeble said. “[She can't help us now.]”

Kim turned to look at the little man, but he
was staring out at nothing and not really offering any clue as to
what he was saying. Sir Douglas was looking mighty annoyed at being
ignored.


[Of course she can. All we
need is —]”


[No, look.]”

He pointed, and Kim
realized he
wasn't
looking at nothing. But she didn't understand why it was so
fascinating. It was just a bird.

Kim blinked. She licked her lips and blinked
again, narrowing her eyes against the afternoon sun. The bird was
further away than she had first thought but it was huge, as big as
a jumbo jet and even less likely to fly. "Jesus."

But it wasn't really a bird. It was a bit
like a bat, with huge, leathery, strangely jointed wings. And, even
stranger, there were three metal cylinders strapped beneath it.

Kim looked at Keeble, then
Meledrin, then back out at the
thing
.


[I think we should take
cover.]”

The thing kept coming, whatever it was, and
a minute later it was over the cricket field, only thirty meters
off the ground. Kim thought she could hear the thrumming of its
wings. There was no other sound. The crowd had fallen silent.
Everyone was watching.

A huge, winged shadow skittered across the
cricket pitch as the creature straightened, steadied.

"I don't like the look of that." Kim
instinctively took a step back. And just as she did, a pair of
square, shining canisters dropped from the middle of the three
cylinders strapped to the creature. Her heart rate skyrocketed.


[Get down,]” Keeble
yelled.

Kim stared at him stupidly. She couldn't
exactly understand the words, but she knew what he meant and still
she didn't move. Keeble grabbed her arm and pulled her to the
ground. He and Meledrin both covered their heads, but Kim looked at
the crowd and the two packages — she couldn't help but think of
them as bombs — falling towards the grandstand. Time seemed to
slow, stretch, contort. She could hear the rushing of blood in her
ears.

People were scattering in all directions,
but not quickly enough.

5: Weapons of War

 

The explosions came in quick succession. The
ground shook and a huge gout of flame shot into the air. Shrapnel
whizzed past, thudding into trees, people, and armor, ripping holes
in tents. A wave of heat followed. Something heavy hit the ground a
few meters away, and Kim, in a daze, turned to look. A fallen
branch had crushed a tent at the edge of the forest. A rain of
leaves drifted down as well. It was beautiful. Mesmerizing. Until
the sounds of the screams hit her like a Mohammed Ali jab. She
snapped her attention to the crowd. Or what was left of it.

The grandstand had collapsed. The timber
seats were burning, the metal frame twisting in the heat. People
were still running, but not many. Most were lying on the ground.
Some writhed in pain, but for the most part they were still, burnt
black in a moment. In a dozen places small fires burned where
something like napalm had set people and clothes and grass
alight.

"Shit." Kim got to her knees and stared.
"Shit, shit, shit." She wanted to run and help, but she stayed
rooted to the spot like the Major Oak. Her feet stood still while
her mind ran in circles.

Closer, more people had been injured. One
woman bled from a head wound and Sir Douglas, teeth gritted, was
plucking a shard of metal from his arm. Another piece was lodged in
his breastplate. While Kim watched, the knight tore a strip off his
clothing to bandage his wound then went to help someone else. And
still Kim couldn't move. She knelt and stared while people wailed
and screamed around her. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was so
dry.

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