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Authors: Gail Roughton

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BOOK: Miami Days and Truscan
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Chapter Two

 

The smells were the first thing I noticed when I began to come round. The familiarity of odors was soothing; a good wood fire, roasting meat, and something that smelled vaguely like onion. I heard the faint hiss and crackle of the fire. I was lying on something soft that couldn’t quite disguise the hardness beneath. Moving my fingers, I identified the feel of soft fur. Finally, there being no help for it, I opened my eyes.

It was dark and I was lying near a fire on a fur rug. I raised my head and glanced around. The men were scattered about and I saw some were posted with their backs to the camp, obviously on guard. There were two of them near the line of tethered horses; the beautiful, impossibly horned mount was tethered separately a short distance away from the rest. The trees loomed large in the darkness. The two men I knew only as Johnny and Dalph were seated by the fire. I saw Dalph look at me and speak softly to Johnny, who moved the short distance over to me.

He knelt beside me. “So,” he said cheerfully, “you back with the living?”

I reached up and gingerly felt my jaw. I glared at him. He laughed softly at my expression.

“No need to get into a snit. We warned you.”

“Oh, well, that just makes everything all right!”

He laughed again. “Hold on. Let me get you something hot to drink, and then I’ll try and tell you something about where you are. You’ll understand. He didn’t have time to argue this afternoon.”

I bit back the sharp retort I wanted to make. Dalph had gotten up to pour some steaming liquid into a rough mug. He started to hand it to me and then cocked his head in brief consideration and handed it to Johnny instead, again proving he wasn’t stupid.

“Is that cup mine or is the giant your personal waiter?” I asked.

Amusement flitted over Johnny’s face. Dalph’s expression didn’t change.

“Good one,” Johnny said as he squatted and handed me the mug. It had no handles and the heat of the liquid through the sides felt wonderful to my hands. I sniffed suspiciously.

“Coffee?” I asked.

“Not exactly. It’s made from beans that are sort of a cross between cocoa and coffee, we call it friesa. Probably be a real expensive blend back where we came from.”

I drank. It tasted wonderful. Johnny settled comfortably beside me and got down to business.

“So. First things first. Formal introduction time. That giant would be Randalph of Trusca.
The
Truscan.” His emphasis clearly indicated capital letters as he gestured at Dalph.


The
Truscan?”

“Oh, yeah. You and me’d call him the King.”

Dalph inclined his head toward me and spoke briefly.

“His pleasure,” Johnny translated.

“Not mine,” I said. “Not real sure about you anymore, but I’m an American. Don’t have much use for kings. If he’s the man in charge, why do you use a nickname like Dalph? Shouldn’t you be bowing and scraping?”

“Well, like I said, honey, you ain’t in Kansas anymore. And Truscans don’t stand much on ceremony. You don’t just inherit the throne of Trusca. It doesn’t mean privilege, it means duty and responsibility. You have to earn it, day after day. Dalph’s family’s held the throne for over five hundred years. And every one of his bloodline before him have lived and died for this country. He lives for it. And he’ll almost certainly die because of it.”

I looked at the giant in quick re-assessment. There was no mistaking the sincerity and respect of Johnny’s tone.

“That’s where we are? Trusca?”

“Is now. Wasn’t where you crashed. Which was a major problem. Let’s start fresh, what do you say? My name’s Johnny McKay. Most everybody but Dalph calls me McKay, be nice if you’d use Johnny. What’s your name, darlin’?”

I rubbed my decidedly sore jaw before answering and he chuckled.

“Sorry ‘bout that, but I promise your jaw feels a lot better right now than the rest of you’d feel if we hadn’t gotten out of there in the next five minutes or so.”

There was no point in being stubborn and you had to swap information to get any. “Teresa Ames.”

“Terry, is it now? And what’d you do back home?”

“No, not Terry. Terry’s a cute name. I’ve been called lots of things but never cute. I use Tess. I’m a—well, I call myself a troubleshooter—for the CEO of a corporation out of Miami, Ramos International.”

“Ramos? You don’t say! I knew a Fernando Ramos back in the day. Had a little business named Ramos, Ltd. and it was growing like a weed. Wouldn’t be one and the same now, would it?”

“Yes, it probably would. Except it’s all grown up now and his grandson runs it. How long have you been here? How’d you get here, anyway?” This was a fact-finding mission. I wasn’t about to spill my life story to strangers, at least not without getting something back.

“Long time, sweetie. Long, long time. I think time’s measured pretty much the same over here. Tell me something, did I miss the turn of the century? Pretty sure I did.”

“As in Twentieth to Twenty-First? Oh, yeah, by just about a decade.”

“Crap. One of those landmarks you don’t want to miss. Oh, well.” He shrugged and got back to business. “I got here pretty much the same way you did. Always wanted to fly, so I joined the Air Force for the training. Loved flying, but didn’t care much for the Air Force. So when I got out, I opened a charter flight line in Miami, all those rich folks flying out to the Caribbean Islands, you know. I was checking out a new plane, third one I’d been able to buy. Thought I had the world by the tail. I was headed out toward Bermuda, and I ran into this patch of—now, really, do I have to tell you what it looked like…?”

“No.”

“…and I fetched up here. Luckier than you two in one way, I guess. I didn’t come out that close to any trees. We could see you, you know. Looked like you came out of nowhere. Your pilot, don’t reckon he had time to do much more than cut the engines and shut off the fuel lines.”

“That’s exactly what he did, and I don’t—why did he cut the engines? It seemed like the final lunacy of the whole thing.”

“Fire, baby girl, less likely to blow you to hell and back when it crashes. Not much less likely, but it’s all you can do.”

“Oh,” I said slowly. Ken had known his stuff, I’d always known that.

“Anyway, I came out near level ground, long plateau. Prettiest emergency landing site you ever saw, not that I wanted to land, but from my fuel gauge, once it started working again, that is, I didn’t have much choice. So I put down, and I started calling on my radio. And I guess you can figure, I didn’t raise anybody. So I started walking. Didn’t intend to get too far from the plane, but I thought I’d better scout the place out, you know.”

“And these people found you.”

He laughed. “Now that’s where I wasn’t as lucky as you. You crashed about two miles over the Truscan border, in a country we call Pria, and I crashed much further in. And Dalph, here, he keeps the borders patrolled all the time, but he takes patrols out himself real often. Truscans got a real ‘we guard the world’ thing going on; there was never any question we were going to cross the border to see if anybody was alive. We barely got back out. A Prian border patrol was right behind us. That’s why Dalph couldn’t stop to argue with you. Guess maybe from our appearance with the swords and shields and fur trappings and all, you’ve got this pegged as a real ‘Me Tarzan, you Jane’ place, and it sorta is, won’t lie about it. Know Dalph’s knocking you out didn’t help your opinion of him but he didn’t take any pleasure in it, he had no choice. You don’t want to meet up with the Prians.”

“I don’t?”

“Oh, trust me, darlin’, you don’t. See, you’re sitting here ’bout to join us for supper. But if the Prians had gotten to you first, you wouldn’t be eating supper. You’d
be
supper.”

I stared. “I don’t believe you!”

He shrugged. “Okay. But they were just about to cut my balls off and toss ’em in the fire when Dalph’s father and his patrol got me away from ’em. That blunt enough for you?”

I could feel the blood draining from my face.

“What
is
this place?” I whispered.

“Trusca. And you thank all the gods of all the worlds for it. Last country in this world that isn’t part of the Prian Empire. That meat looks about ready, let’s eat. And seeing as how I think I finally got your attention, I’ll try to answer whatever you ask.”

I sat on the pile of furs and watched Johnny move around the fire. It wasn’t exactly cold, but it wasn’t the Caribbean either. I hugged my shoulders. I was dressed for a casual flight to Jamaica, in jeans and halter top, over which I’d put on a short-sleeved camp shirt, tying the loose ends at my waist, with comfortable running shoes on my feet. At least I hadn’t been dressed for a business trip in a linen suit and high heels. Dalph caught the gesture and rose to pick up one of the furs, wrapping it around my shoulders. His eyes held mine for a minute, and he almost turned away. Then he looked back.

“Sedte ca mortuus tempray.” he said. Or words to that effect. “Nolte dasa ca sala.”

I looked at Johnny and raised my eyebrow.

“He says he’s sorry about your pilot and that no Truscan takes any life lightly. There was just no choice.”

I locked eyes with Randalph of Trusca and nodded solemnly.

Johnny watched in approval. “Good deal. Glad you get it.”

He handed me a plate, and I looked down and over to the men around me who were eating with their fingers, using large chunks of brown bread to assist them in picking up the food and sopping up the meat juices.

“Sorry, we don’t carry such non-essentials as eating utensils out on patrol,” he said.

I shrugged. “I’ll manage,” I said. I was so hungry I could have managed almost anything.

Johnny watched me appraisingly as I ate. “So,” he said. “Troubleshooter, you say? That’s—well, what is that? Personal secretary, what?”

Apparently, it was his turn for information, though why he cared what I did, I didn’t know.

“You been here so long you never heard of Women’s Lib? You just assume a woman’s a secretary and that a secretary’s job isn’t important?”

“Didn’t mean to ruffle any feathers.”

I laughed. “Actually, you didn’t, I just couldn’t resist. I do—did!—sort of a combination thing. I have a Master’s Degree in Finance and Management. I trailed around behind the company CEO tying up loose ends, cleaned up messes, double and triple checked behind every other department in the company, it seemed like, sometimes. And kept all the company entertainment and public relations scheduling straight, tried to keep Carlos straight—that’s the CEO—did a lot of the planning and coordination for that. I troubleshot. Whatever trouble popped up. Which actually made me a glorified secretary, I guess.”

Johnny whistled. “No, I definitely wouldn’t call you a secretary, glorified or otherwise. Ramos is that big now, huh? Wouldn’t have thought ole’ Fernando’d give up the reins so lightly.”

“He didn’t have much choice. He had some health problems.”

“He’s changed, if that stopped him.”

“He wants to live long enough to make sure Carlos settles down and produces the next CEO before he dies.”

Johnny looked at me sharply. “You a candidate for that? Producing the next CEO?”

I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks. “I worked my butt off to get through college and grad school on my own. I got my job on my own. I didn’t sleep my way into it!”

“Sorry, wasn’t intended as an insult. I’m sure you’re a pistol at whatever you put your mind to doing. Any normal single man working that close with a woman looks like you bound to try to mix business and pleasure. That’s all I meant.”

I’d have to watch Johnny. He carried off the good ole’ boy southwestern drawl well, but he was sharp, no doubt about it. That was an excellent retraction. It would probably work on most women. It even earned him a few Brownie points with me, just for the sheer quick thinking.

“And why do you care what I did or what I can do?”

Johnny cocked his head and looked at me thoughtfully. “One trait of these Truscan Kings, they don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dalph’s father figured folks who could fly through the air had to be good for something, and made me Dalph’s tutor. He was seven years old when I came through. Have to say, I’m no scientist or doctor or teacher, but just by being raised in our world, in our time, I’ve been pretty handy to have around over the years. With your education, good Lord, baby girl, do you know how valuable you can be in this world? To Trusca?”

“You don’t think we’re on earth at all, do you?”

“Oh, not hardly,” he admitted.

“Where do you think we are? In relation to earth?”

“Know any of the theories on that stretch of ocean? The water between Florida and the Caribbean Islands, clean on up to the Carolina coasts?”

“The Bermuda Triangle. The Devil’s Triangle. Of course I do. Ken and I used to laugh about it. That was my pilot’s name. Ken Hanslett.”

“Thought a lot of him, didn’t you? Knew him real well?”

“Flown out with him a good many times. Ramos does a lot of entertaining in Jamaica.”

BOOK: Miami Days and Truscan
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