strangers in paradise
Khirpak summoned his men to bundle Leon up in a typical Gvot stretcher, two wooden poles connected with a good-sized animal skin.
By this time, Leon's brain was overloaded with too much information, one side-effect of too much blood, war & time.
Most Gvot eschewed technology.
Not Khirpak. He embraced it because it gave him a tremendous advantage. All the important Gvot saw it the same way.
Khirpak called Stevich. Stevich answered only because he had to, even though he was considerably distracted at the moment.
"What do I do? I take him to Nagas?" Khirpak had a pretty good idea of the kind of event transpiring in Stevich's life, he just didn't know the "what" & the "who".
"Yes, yes, take him to Nagas." Stevich was curt and impatient, clearly very much in the present tense. He clicked off immediately.
Khirpak cursed under his breath. "Tharantul!"
He ordered the stretcher crew to move Leon down deeper into the darkness. Even his crew didn't know their destination was Nagas' tent.
He ordered them to stop about 10 meters away, then waved them off, back into the light, the bustling throng of public Gvot life.
Khirpak waited until they were gone from view.
He looked around, ever alert for prying eyes.
Seeing none, seeing no sudden movement in the drapes over tent openings, Khirpak lifted one end of Leon's stretcher & dragged it the rest of the way to Nagas' large tent opening.
"It is I, Khirpak, son of Khadrak. I have Freedman. We need to say good bye to these two people." He spat outside, careful not to soil inside the doorway.
Inside, Nagas weighed the advantages of keeping their guests a little longer, given his recent experience with one of them.
"Bring him in!" Nagas briefly wondered if Suzanne would be insulted if they were asked to leave.
Khirpak dragged the stretcher in as best he could, excusing himself profusely for showing his back to this most esteemed elder.
Nagas forgave him. "No, you have done well, Khirpak, you are excused. Now, begone, return to your station."
Obediently, Khirpak lowered Leon to the ground in front of Nagas, turned, and backed his way out, bowing as he went.
Nagas sighed & leaned forward over Leon Freedman.
"So, Leon Freedman, what are we going to do with you now?"
Leon opened his eyes when he heard an unfamiliar woman's voice. "I think we might have something we'd like to say about that."
Leon saw Nagas turn his gaze over his right shoulder, clearly surprised.
As Nagas shifted to stand, Leon saw a large hand settle gently on Nagas' left shoulder, pushing him back down onto his cushion.
Leon knew what would happen next. He smiled a little grateful smile for Sorrel, relaxed a bit and waited for the cigarette to be placed in his mouth.
He smelled the lighter fluid, heard the Zippo flick open, felt the filter between his lips.
Leon inhaled and asked "What brand we gat today?"
The Quiet One lit one for himself. "Camels." He looked around the tent. "Irony abounds."
By this time, Leon's brain was overloaded with too much information, one side-effect of too much blood, war & time.
Most Gvot eschewed technology.
Not Khirpak. He embraced it because it gave him a tremendous advantage. All the important Gvot saw it the same way.
Khirpak called Stevich. Stevich answered only because he had to, even though he was considerably distracted at the moment.
"What do I do? I take him to Nagas?" Khirpak had a pretty good idea of the kind of event transpiring in Stevich's life, he just didn't know the "what" & the "who".
"Yes, yes, take him to Nagas." Stevich was curt and impatient, clearly very much in the present tense. He clicked off immediately.
Khirpak cursed under his breath. "Tharantul!"
He ordered the stretcher crew to move Leon down deeper into the darkness. Even his crew didn't know their destination was Nagas' tent.
He ordered them to stop about 10 meters away, then waved them off, back into the light, the bustling throng of public Gvot life.
Khirpak waited until they were gone from view.
He looked around, ever alert for prying eyes.
Seeing none, seeing no sudden movement in the drapes over tent openings, Khirpak lifted one end of Leon's stretcher & dragged it the rest of the way to Nagas' large tent opening.
"It is I, Khirpak, son of Khadrak. I have Freedman. We need to say good bye to these two people." He spat outside, careful not to soil inside the doorway.
Inside, Nagas weighed the advantages of keeping their guests a little longer, given his recent experience with one of them.
"Bring him in!" Nagas briefly wondered if Suzanne would be insulted if they were asked to leave.
Khirpak dragged the stretcher in as best he could, excusing himself profusely for showing his back to this most esteemed elder.
Nagas forgave him. "No, you have done well, Khirpak, you are excused. Now, begone, return to your station."
Obediently, Khirpak lowered Leon to the ground in front of Nagas, turned, and backed his way out, bowing as he went.
Nagas sighed & leaned forward over Leon Freedman.
"So, Leon Freedman, what are we going to do with you now?"
Leon opened his eyes when he heard an unfamiliar woman's voice. "I think we might have something we'd like to say about that."
Leon saw Nagas turn his gaze over his right shoulder, clearly surprised.
As Nagas shifted to stand, Leon saw a large hand settle gently on Nagas' left shoulder, pushing him back down onto his cushion.
Leon knew what would happen next. He smiled a little grateful smile for Sorrel, relaxed a bit and waited for the cigarette to be placed in his mouth.
He smelled the lighter fluid, heard the Zippo flick open, felt the filter between his lips.
Leon inhaled and asked "What brand we gat today?"
The Quiet One lit one for himself. "Camels." He looked around the tent. "Irony abounds."