Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (40 page)

“Damnation!
Who told you? Is there some sort of tom-tom telegraph around here?”

That
evening, they entered the communal dining hall deep in conversation about the
trip north. Jeff and Carl were startled when the fifteen or so people present
stood simultaneously and applauded loudly. Jeff didn’t know whether to run or
maybe do a dance. Carl stepped out of the limelight and joined in the applause,
which did not help matters. Entering the spirit of the thing Jeff swept off his
hat and bowed deeply, bringing a new round of applause and appreciative
laughter.

While
gathering food, he glanced at Carl with a bemused expression. “Is there anyone
who doesn’t know?”

Carl
thoughtfully pulled at his chin. “No sir, I’m sure of it. There isn’t a single
person who doesn’t know. Relax, Jeff. These folks are happy for you and Zimma.
They think it’s perfectly natural, and Rogelf has been grinning around here
like a Cheshire cat. First that trip to Tradertown really straightened Zimma
out, now it looks like she’s found someone to settle down with.” Carl erupted
in embarrassed laughter. “Jeff, you and Zimma made so much racket that the
whole place was awake. When I ran out here to see what was going on, men and
women were discussing it like a football game. Hell, Rogelf threw a party!”

“He
threw a party?”

Carl
nodded sagely.

“Well,
damnation.” Jeff laughed in spite of renewed chagrin. “I guess everyone does
know.”

When
the worst of his appetite was seen to, Jeff began reflecting on what Carl had
said. More questions were added to his list.

“They
discussed our lovemaking like a football game, right?”

“Yep,
that’s what it reminded me of.” Carl was so uncomfortable that he squirmed in
his chair. “Sort of a play-by-play, I think.”

“And
Rogelf threw a party in the middle of the night. What kind of party, and with
what?”

“Oh,
the usual stuff—ale, bread, cheese, sweets,” Carl replied with dismissive
shrug. “Everyone was congratulating Rogelf and drinking too much.”

“Just
sort of found all that food lying around, eh?”

Carl
examined Jeff with sudden interest. “Now that you mention it, no he didn’t. It
was all boxed up and ready to go. Pretty fancy stuff, too. What are you
suggesting, Jeff?”

“I’m
not really sure. Zimma and Rogelf were out shopping yesterday afternoon. I
suspect that’s where the food came from and why it was fancy. Tying that in
with everything I experienced last night and this morning, Zimma’s coming to my
room was not a spontaneous act but carefully planned.”

“That
doesn’t strike me as unusual, Jeff. In my experience, women usually do plan
things pretty carefully. Especially anything having to do with a
relationship."

“I’ll
buy that. On the other hand, do you know of any women on Earth who would go
shopping with her father to buy stuff for a party that celebrates visiting a
guy in his room?”

“Got
me there. Not a chance. Especially a party like the one last night. It was
really strange.”

“That’s
a good word. This whole thing is more than strange.” Jeff tilted his head in thought.
His list of questions pointed in one direction only. “Looking at it now, and as
an anthropologist, I cannot avoid the conclusion that I was put to a test as
old as Zimma’s culture. She isn’t human, Carl.” He waved an arm around the
hall. “None of these people are. Maybe we’ve forgotten the small fact that
we’re no longer on Earth.”

“Come
again?” Carl looked at Jeff in blank-faced astonishment. “You bouncing off the
wall?”

“Maybe,”
Jeff said with spread hands. He turned his head and pointed a finger at the
scabbed, semicircular bite mark on his ear. “What do you make of that?”

Carl
took a close look and whistled. “One nasty bite is what I make of it, buddy.”
He pulled Jeff’s ear around for a minute inspection. Even though scabbed over,
it had the appearance of a serious wound. “A little deeper and you might have
lost part of that ear. You telling me Zimma did that?”

“I
am telling you that,” Jeff replied with a decisive nod. “When she came into my
room I didn’t recognize her voice, and her skin was so hot I thought it would
burn me. And strong! She threw me around like a doll! Without going into
personal details, let me give you a thumbnail of what happened after that…”

Some
time later, “…And then she was back to her old self.” Jeff took a long drink and
gestured toward Carl. “Okay, tell me what you think.”

“I
don’t know what to think,” Carl breathed. “No, what you have just said blows me
away! You sure there was some blue and green in the chest display? That
something in her eyes actually spun around?”

“The
light wasn’t good for those colors, but I’m pretty sure,” Jeff replied, “and
I’m not likely to forget the way those sparks whirled around. The effect was so
strong I couldn’t look away.”

“I
think it’s high time I kicked myself in the butt, and hard,” Carl muttered in a
tone of profound disgust. “Me—the young upstart biologist.” Carl felt so
chagrined he couldn’t look at Jeff for a period. “I let myself get sucked into
one of the oldest traps there is: the assumption that two phenomena are
identical because superficial observation indicates they are.”

“I
think I get your drift. Since the inhabitants of this world look and generally
act like us, we extend that comparison and assume they are the same in every
respect.”

“That’s
it.”

Pursing
his lips, Carl looked at Jeff with an intensely speculative expression.
Although Carl blushed easily and frequently, the one spreading across his face
like a brush fire set new standards. Jeff nodded judiciously. Whatever was
cooking in Carl’s head ought to really be good.

“Uh,
Jeff, what did Zimma…I mean, you know, did you notice anything different down
there, like.... Oh, damnation!”

Jeff
laughed delightedly. “Down there? Nope, and not up there either. She’s put
together just like a healthy American girl.”

Carl
grinned, if feebly, and stared off into space for a period. “I suspect you were
affected by something like pheromones at first, then may have been injected
with more potent agents when she bit you.” Carl sat up straight and pointed an
excited finger at Jeff. “Maybe it’s reciprocal! From what you’ve said, it
sounds like Zimma actually tasted your blood off and on. I wouldn’t be
surprised if some of her behavior was stimulated by your body’s response to
what she injected. I’ll bet that’s what happens—a positive or negative feedback
cycle depending on response. Either the first loving flies or it’s all over. I
think you were literally put to the test!”

“She
isn’t a vampire, Carl.”

“Settle
down, boy,” Carl said, making calming motions with his hands. “I’m not saying
she is. That vampire shit is rubbish.” He drifted off for several moments
before saying, “You’re right—they aren’t human, or at least not entirely so.
Nothing in my understanding of human biology stands up to comparison.”

Clapping
Carl on the back, Jeff stood up. “Or in Anthropology. But then, how do we
define human? See you in the morning, buddy. I’m really tired.”

“Thanks
for the wakeup call, Jeff. It reminds me that I’m a biologist, and also that
we’ve fallen into a wonderful world. There is so much to learn.”

“In
spades, my friend.”

When
Jeff walked into his room, Zimma was in bed waiting for him. Compared to their
first night together, the second was quiet. While Zimma was passionate and
physical, she displayed none of the ferocity Jeff vividly remembered. She made
no attempt to bite him, her skin temperature seemed normal, and his desire for
her was free of the external compulsion that had driven him into a mating
frenzy.

Zimma
accompanied Jeff and Carl next morning on a shopping trip to complete their provisions
for the trip north. The day passed too quickly as they wandered Astholf. Zimma
led them from shop to shop and finally to the food store she had discovered.
Frowning over the sausage, thumping and squeezing the fruit, she personally
picked the best foodstuffs. That evening they attended a final conference.

Since
everything but a few details had already been settled, Belstan and Rogelf
concentrated on major points only. They planned to leave within three weeks. In
fact, Belstan noted, they had to leave in that time frame if they wanted to
arrive at Rugen before first snow. He estimated they would be on the trail for
at least seven or eight weeks. Rogelf gave a number of letters to Jeff for
delivery to businessmen in Rugen he had dealt with in the past. There wasn’t
much more to talk about, and they broke up early in a somber mood.

Jeff
and Zimma spent their last night together holding each other and saying little.
They savored every minute, tucking away memories that would have to last for
many months. Zimma fervently wished the caravan would arrive at Rugen before
Jeff had to leave for Valholm, but she knew the wish was hopeless.

Their
lovemaking was intense and slowly thorough, each stroke prolonged until it was
hardly bearable in anticipation of the next. It was not until dawn that tears
of parting were shared while they assisted each other in dressing. A last,
lingering hug that nearly broke their wills and they left for communal
breakfast hand-in-hand.

The
horses were saddled and waiting when they walked out of the warehouse. Zimma
helped him load Cynic and then there was nothing left to postpone departure.
Jeff and Zimma walked off a distance so they could speak in private.

Zimma
sighed with resignation when Jeff took her in his arms. When she pushed back,
Jeff saw something that reminded him of their first night together. Her eyes
seemed to glimmer with a light that had no connection to the sun.

“In
the short time allotted us, Jeffrey, I have come to understand little of your
homeland, this America. Yet withal, my heart is chilled and saddened by the
estrangement between men and women that may be perceived. My love, the ways of
America are not the ways of Chaldesia.” Zimma paused and seemed to be searching
for the right words. “There is much that I would share concerning the manner of
men and women together in my homeland, on this world, but the telling would be
long and such time is not given us.

“I
know in part what you will face this winter. That you must travel when others
stay warm by their fires, travel even in the great cold of deep winter. The
time may come when your spirit threatens to fail and cries for human warmth. If
this should occur and you are offered the comfort of another woman’s arms, it
would greatly please me if you would accept.”

“I
will not. You…” Zimma put a finger on his lips. “This is our way and is offered
to women as well, but I will be among family and friends, warm fires and
plentiful food. Jeffrey, I do not fear the loss of your love. That I hold
secure in my heart. If the love and warmth of another woman means that you come
back to me whole, then I will owe her a debt of gratitude and more. Do not
object, my love. Think on it and remember.”

“I
begin to understand how fortunate I am to have come to this wonderful land. I
am blessed in your person. Know that I will return to you.” In spite of
resolve, they mixed tears in a final embrace.

After
a round of farewells with Belstan, Rogelf and others that had gathered to say
good-bye, Jeff stepped into the saddle. Wrenching his eyes away from Zimma, he
lifted Cynic to a trot and rode out of Astholf with Carl trailing behind.

Carl
hung on for dear life. Never having ridden, he had to bend all his
concentration on staying in the saddle. Elbows flapping, he bounced from side
to side, up and down and in several other directions as well. He thought the
first day on the trail would never end.

When
Jeff called an early halt to ease the pain, Carl’s rear end and thighs were in
agony. They hurt so bad he nearly fell from the saddle while dismounting. Very
carefully, slowly, he peeled off leather britches. One look at the oozing
blisters on Carl’s bright red fanny and Jeff hurried to his saddlebags.

“We
have to take care of that right now or you’re going to be crippled up by the
end of another day. I have just the thing.”

“You’re
going to shoot me, right?”

“Break
a leg and I’ll consider it,” Jeff laughed. “Tell you what, go soak your butt in
that creek. Those blisters are ugly and have to be cleaned up. Don’t use a lot
of soap.”

“I
know, I know,” Carl muttered.

Although
Jeff knew it was his imagination, he could swear that steam hissed up when Carl
eased down into the creek with a relieved sigh. Jeff located the pot of
all-purpose salve, the same compound he had used to treat Cynic’s wound. It had
worked so well that he now used it on himself.

“Okay,
great buffalo hunter. Let’s do it.”

Before
Jeff could apply the salve, Carl snatched the pot from his hand. “What is this
stuff? It smells terrible.”

“It’s
supposed to—that’s what does the trick.”