The Riddles of Ridayah

By David Chatelle

Three forest fire combatants are mysteriously awakened in a strange land. Though separated, they meet and befriend many of four distinctly different species who have been invaded by creatures from beyond a barrier wall. While aiding their friends, they discover this land is on a world constructed about a small black hole by those who may pose a serious threat to their own. With too many problems and too little time, they must race to solve a millennia old riddle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jan 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543922608

Book preview

XXIV

PROLOGUE

Slowly getting out of the big 4 wheel drive rig, the men were appalled at the carnage the fire had caused. The once forested foothills that had been full of life and color, replete with soft fragrance and sound, had been violently denuded of all that had been alive. A monochrome of grayish char lay over all for miles in every direction, only to be broken by black spikes of once vibrant trees. Some still with a wisp of smoke wending upward toward the sky.

I’ll get this guy’ Alex said. 'I’ll find him and he’ll pay for this.

Ollie and I are with ya’ there bro, Stix followed up between clenched teeth. All three fires seem to have had the same ignition source, so it must be the same guy…or group of guys.

The three were silent for a bit as they surveyed the destroyed land. Neither Alex nor Stix had seen devastation like this since leaving battle torn wastes of Afghanistan. To know this was done on purpose was heartbreaking.

Alex Holm was tough. Of Native American and Swede heritage, the 6 foot 2 fire fighter was in phenomenal shape. Eight years fighting overseas had made him hard, and constant training in Tae Kwon Do and forms of military weaponless combat had made him almost scary. Only the quick smile and easy demeanor hid the restrained power, and the flowing black hair on the dusky muscular frame worked well with the women.

Sweeping his gaze along the hazy rolling horizon, Alex took note of the little tongues of flame trying to get at the last little bits of fuel within their reach. Soon they would shrink to glowing coals then, starving, they would finally die. He also noticed the occasional insect flitting or buzzing about. Scouts for the coming hordes which is Natures way of starting the healing process, which could take years. With a sigh and slow shake of his head, he finally turned and headed back toward the truck.

Stix and Ollie were in their own worlds for a time. Stix, real name Calvin Mattell, had been with Alex in Afghanistan for 6 years. A mere 5 foot 8, he was still a force to be taken seriously when the situation got tense. Of Scot and English blood, he had been involved in various Martial Arts since he was 5 years old. His father was a practitioner of Kendo and had gotten him involved, but over the years the son had become Black belt or Master of a couple of other schools. He loved Ju Jitsu, but excelled at Escrido, hence the nickname. With a couple 2 or 3 foot sticks at hand he could handle the rowdiest of tavern toughs. Some people just thought him crazy. He liked it that way. He turned and watched as Alex kicked at a smoking lump and stare off into the distance before turning toward the truck.

Either he senses something, or wishes he could he murmured to Ollie. Whichever, this really tears him up. I hope we catch this bastard soon. Turning back toward Alex, he shouted for attention. Al, we’d better head on up to base. I’m sure they’re waitin’ on us!

Alex looked over, waved, and made his way toward the truck where they gathered and headed out. Continuing to the rendezvous, Alex couldn’t shake off the idea that something just wasn’t right.

I know you’ll think I’m crazy’ he said. But I just can’t make sense of the feeling we’re being watched."

Listen, Al Stix replied. I’ve known you far to long to discount any of those ‘feelings’ you get.

What feelings? What do you mean? Ollie piped up in that clipped South African accent of his. Is it some of that spooky crap I’ve been hearing about?

Oliver M’Bhutu was a South African citizen living in the U.S. to learn forestry fire fighting and rescue techniques from the best in the world. He had also been in the military, but opted for public safety upon discharge and was here on a two year training mission. He’d only been with these two for 6 months, but it proved a great fit. An imposing 6 foot 6 and 322 pounds, Oliver, or Ollie as his new friends called him, was a force of nature himself. His black as ebon skin, booming voice, and willingness to laugh, even at himself, was a winning combination that helped ease his acceptance into the tightly knit society of forestry and rescue personnel. That he was a very skilled helicopter pilot certainly didn’t hurt.

Yeah, Alex here is a weirdo Stix said with a laugh. Call it a gift, curse, power, or whatever you want, but he always seems to know when trouble skulks near.

Trouble? Ollie asked.

Trouble, people, animals, anything with bad intent he went on. ‘During our stint over there fighting those Tallybang dizzy Issy sissies, Al here could always tell if some were nearby plottin’ bad things. Said he could feel ‘em thinkin’ evil thoughts or something."

Hey Alex cut in. It’s not like that. I don’t know what it is. It’s just…just…

Keep tellin’ yourself that, Boss. You’re the one that told me you couldn’t play hide& seek or kick the can as a kid ‘cause you always knew where everyone else was hiding. How about dodgin’ tackles playin’ high school football?

Ho Ha! Ollie roared, laughing as he slapped the dash Sounds to me the rumors are true! I’m working with a weirdo!

Hey! Hold on a minute! Alex shot back, also laughing. I’m… He was cut off by a blast from the radio coming to life.

Front three, front three, come in a woman’s voice came on, sounding a bit rushed."

Alex picked up and thumbed the mike. Three here, girl. What’s up?

You’re the closest she returned, all radio formalities dispensed with. If you’re kitted & able, I’v gotta ask you to head to block 8, sec 6. Big restart somehow and the crew that was there has moved on to the northeast.

Got it. Were on the way he responded. Any assistance en route?

Retardant plane, and the first crew is repacking & will meet up A.S.A.P She returned.

Got it & we’re already moving Alex said as Stix reached forward with the TOPO map.

Good the voice came back. And don’t call me ‘girl’ ya big oaf. I’m old enough to be your mother. A simple ‘milady’ will suffice nicely she added with mock sternness, and you can pass that on to that simpleton behind you, too. I’ll be speaking to him on your return.

What? Stix shouted. What’d I do? But he was speaking to a disconnected mike as Alex and Ollie laughed hard. Both knew Stix had to have done something dumb, his norm, to have Deb say anything over the open airwaves. They took easy pleasure in his discomfort, which only made him squirm even more. Alex was still smiling when they reached the grid location.

After donning and adjusting their gear, assuring their safety equipment was ready and able, the three headed up toward their work area. They had to cross a wide strip of land that had been cleared some years before, but had become overgrown with brambles, brush, and saplings. A narrow creek cut through this, that was easily leapt, before coming to the edge of the forest proper. Their task was to backlight some small fires to consume fuel as well as cut and clear as much brush as possible. The leading edge of the fire was still some distance away and they should have plenty of time to turn the blaze from crossing over and threatening a small community ahead. If the second team showed soon, they would have no problem in accomplishing this before the planes came by with retardant. They had only been working a short time when their 'walkies’ squawked to life.

Three, three, three, come in! A man’s voice was shouting. Three abort! Three abort! Get the hell out of there! Now!

Three here Alex yelled back into his walkie-talkie. What the hell’s going on?

New blaze behind you and coming up fast! Just approaching your position and spotted the new fire, your six! Had to be set hard 'cause it’s rollin’ your way at speed. Get your asses outta there now! Run!

Alex, Stix, and Ollie looked at each other, almost stupified for a moment. As one, they turned to see the smoke and flame racing up the rise toward them as if it had a mind of it’s own, then back at the trail they had taken to get there.

Guess you didn’t see that one coming Ollie said to Alex rather matter of factly.

Nope was all Alex could muster in response and, with that, they turned from the threat and ran.

They took off back the way they had come, but the going was tough. Smoke from the newly set fire blew ahead of them, obscuring the trail they had broken earlier, causing them to zig zag their way through the stands of tall bushes, brambles, and brush. Every twig and branch they pushed past seemed bent on snagging their equipment and clothing, and the constant leaping over clumps, rocks, and debris was taking it’s toll. Ollie led the way. Being the biggest of the trio, he automatically took point and literally bulldozed a way toward safety. He hoped. From what little he could see of the big man, Alex had to smile at a thought. Even loaded down with all that crap, that big buffalo runs like a gazelle.

A break in the smoke revealed the creek and beyond that was the more open field leading to the truck. Once there, they should be able to drive south a ways and reach safety to prepare for battling this beast another time. They ran full tilt toward the creek, Stix now at Ollie’s side, when Alex noticed a shimmer appear in a narrow wedge above the waterway as the two ahead of him jumped. Before he could think of the peculiarity, his speed and momentum took him into the air and into the glistening shimmer. That partial thought was his last as he crashed hard onto what should have been a soft and grassy creek bank.

CHAPTER I

Alex scrambled to his feet, trying to catch his breath as he did so, to get to the truck before the fire reached him.

What the….? He gasped, his third step skidding to a halt as his brain came to the sudden realization that something was very wrong. Spinning in place, he tried to make sense of his surroundings but found it impossible. Gone were the smoke, fire, and even the forest itself. Worse was the absence of the stream, truck and most of all…his team!

Stix! Ollie! he shouted through cupped hands. Can you hear me?

Calming himself to get his bearings, he slowly looked about at the completely altered landscape. The familiar shades of green had been replaced with dull yellows and browns that had an almost eerie orange cast. The terrain, as far as he could see, was of pale greenish yellow grass that was about knee high overshadowed with occasional groves of wide topped trees. Interspersed, from horizon to horizon, were tall sharp sided mesa looking outcrops of black and grey stone. As his eyes and mind adjusted to the odd scenery, he became aware that the sun seemed dimmer. Almost a deeper yellow that he could nearly gaze at directly. My god he mumbled with a trace of chagrin. Either I’m dead, or dreaming I’m in some cheaply made western. As if on cue, movement off to the side caught his eye. A large lizard looking thing had hopped onto a rock, looked about a moment, then disappeared.

Alex, still fully kitted in his fire regalia, was trying to plan his next move when the decision was abruptly forced upon him. To his left was a small dust cloud winding quickly through the grass in his direction. As it neared he could make out shapes that appeared to be large dogs, possibly wolves, but he wasn’t certain. What was certain was that he didn’t want to wait around to determint their intent. He realized that a tickle up his spine had been trying to get his attention for some time so he took the warning to heart and headed for the nearest group of trees.

Running as fast as he could with the clattering gear he made for a gap in the grove through which he could make out a cut in the wall of a mesa on the far side. Having to slow for the trees he was fully aware that he’d never make it to the mesa wall as the animals were swiftly closing the gap and, to make it worse, he was stopped short by a crevasse that ran through the trees for miles in both directions.

Well…HELL! he shouted in frustration. Yanking out his tomahawk sized fire axe and a large Bowie like knife, he was turning to fight a battle he knew he had no chance of surviving when he noticed an oddly made rope bridge spanning the crack in the land. The dog things were almost upon him, and he could feel as well as hear their paws hitting the ground, when he reached the ropes. Training, experience, and instinct took in all the information he needed to make the crossing as fast as possible. The crack was 15 or 20 feet wide spanned by ropes forming a bridge similar to many he had seen all over the world. The base was about 6 inches wide of many ropes twined together and supported by numerous verticals. Two hand holds, a bit further apart than he thought logical, completed the apparatus and he latched on to them in a frenetic leap of faith for his life. A sigh of relief was denied him. Having had to slow slightly to assure his boot landed securely on the base rope gave the lead animal enough time to leap onto his back and sink it’s teeth into his coat collar and harness. Thrashing franticly to bring down the prey, the doglike thing seemed unaware of the chasm below and nearly took them both off. Alex never panicked as the impact nearly took him down and concentrated instead on getting across the bridge. The knife had been slid back into it’s sheath so he could grab the guide rope, but the tomahawk was used to hook over the other rope and was slid along as he stepped.

The traverse seemed to take forever as the weight on his back writhed violently and the screaming yelps of the pack behind rose to a deafening pitch. Adrenaline, his ally in his flight to the trees, now felt like it would make his heart explode and was bringing on hallucinations. He seemed certain the howling noise was actually those left behind screeching encouragement to his tormentor to bring him down. During the assault and crossing Alex was unaware that two others had made leaps at him but had been unable to maintain balance on the swaying rope. They had fallen, screaming, to the bottom.

Reaching the end of the bridge, Alex spun and crashed to his back in an effort to dislodge his attacker. The animal yelped and loosened it’s grip on his coat as they both rolled away from each other to regain their feet. The feral beast was quicker. Alex, still on his knees, turned to face it as it immediately leaped at his throat but was able to turn the lunge. Training had him already bringing up the hand axe in an arc that caught the dog thing a glancing blow on the shoulder and it’s teeth missed his neck by a hair. Dazed at the quick defense by this prey it took an instant to reassess, but Alex had no such qualms. He instantly continued the turn as he maintained momentum on his weapon, reversing the blade side for the pick, and brought it down directly onto the animal’s skull. The thing died instantly.

There, ya bastards! He shouted in defiance at the suddenly quieter pack across the cut. No easy meat here! I… A scrabbling and low whine to his side caught his attention and he cut off the rant. One of the animals that attempted to cross in a frenzied jump nearly made it, but was now hanging precariously from the lip. The front legs were scratching and digging franticly while, from the sounds, the back legs did the same. Mouth agape with the low wailing whine, it was the eyes that drew Alex’s attention. They were wide with terror and, somehow, simply didn’t seem menacing. Almost pleading while at the same time fearful at his approach. Alex had been brought up in the natural world and was well aware of the relationships between predator and prey. He and the would be killer both knew the situation had reversed but neither could see the outcome. Nor was it what either would have expected. Alex was wary, but decided that the predator was not at fault. It was only acting as it was taught through evolution and instinct and, with care, he would try and save it.

Removing his wide belt, and putting the weapons it held close at his side, he made a loop that he set between the animal’s teeth. If it knew what he was doing he couldn’t know, but the mouth closed tightly and held firm. Kneeling on the other end to support it, he reached one hand out to grab the frightened thing’s furred leg under the shoulder and pulled. Across the way all the others had fallen still and silent. Were they somehow aware of what he was doing? More importantly, why? Thoughts for later, Alex decided inwardly, and dragged the dog like beast up to safety. He stepped quickly back from the precipice and watched the thing shake off the fear and look across the separation at it’s pack. Within a moment it turned back to face Alex with nose forward and tail out straight. Uh-oh Alex thought. This may have been a bad move. But he was surprised. The would be predator coughed a low 'woof’ and promptly sat with head low and ears as far forward as they would go. That posture lasted only about 3 breaths and it stood, turned, and trotted along the split without ever looking back.

Ok, Alex breathed out in relief. That was weird. At least they weren’t cats or they’d have swarmed over that bridge. Retrieving the belt, he replaced the weapons and buckled it back at his waist before turning back to the dead attacker for a closer look. It was a rather unnerving examination as he couldn’t place exactly what it was.

Mumbling under his breath, he gave himself a running dissertation on the confusing findings. Wolf sized, but the coat is brindled and almost leopard like in coloration. The tail seems far longer that normal and not as thickly hair covered as the rest of the body. The head is large, on a thick neck, but the snout shorter than a wolf’s as well as wider. The musculature looks normal, tho perhaps a bit more hardy, but all in all a dog unlike anything I’ve ever seen or heard of. Hmm… odd, he thought as he looked up and across the split. He was surprised to see that the others had trotted off and appeared to be paralleling their lone companion along the length of the chasm into the distance. That sight, and the strange terrain surrounding him brought his predicament back to him with a slam.

Where the hell am I? he shouted to no one. Strange dogs…strange land…strange light…where the hell is this? How the hell did I get here? And where the hell’re my friends? My team! He stood in place and looked about at the unfamiliar landscape surrounding him for any kind of answer. One was not forthcoming. Same strange grass, grainy dirt, mesas, and wide topped trees in all directions. Finally looking up Alex noticed the difference in the sky. Not the deep blue it had been over the mountains above the fire, but a more steely grey of a Wisconsin winter with a tinge of light smoggy tan. The sun, as he had earlier noticed, seemed a tad larger than normal. Like seeing it nearer the horizon toward sunset as it begins to take on an atmospheric yellow to orange stain.

Weird, he thought. Must be dirty air or something, but it doesn’t smell bad…just dry. Well, just something to add to the strangest half hour or so of my life but nothing to do about it now. Can’t stay here so first things first. He removed all of the equipment, tools, and protective clothing and laid it on the ground. He wanted to see what he he may need to survive an indeterminate time, and what seemed discardable. His water canister was almost full, about 2 quarts worth, so that was definitely a keeper. The small fuel tank with it’s rod igniter for starting back fires was nearly empty, so that would stay. His tomahawk hatchet and the oversized knife were definite keepers, but he just couldn’t justify keeping the big heavy helmet he never really liked anyway. The green 'Packers’ cap he wore underneath would do just fine. The breather mask dangling under his chin got tucked under the big helmet. The air seemed fine. The thick and heavy pants and coat were momentary posers, but opted to keep them if only to carry what he kept. After all, they had his power bars and bags of gorp trail mix in their pockets so they deserved salvation. Decisions made, he found a couple saplings that would make good travois poles and set to chopping and trimming. Lashing the jacket and pants with the harness straps and every draw string he could remove to the travois, he packed on the little pile of useful things and set off. He only made it a few steps before stopping. Looking in the direction the dog things had gone he reached down to retrieve the axe and knife and tucked them into the belt at the top of his jeans. Feeling, well…, slightly more secure, he then headed away from the crack into what he thought of as a northeasterly direction. To, or toward, what was something he couldn’t forsee.

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Stix sprawled on his face in tall grassy stalks managing to get a face full of dirt in the process.

What the…? he sputtered, trying to spit the moist grains off his tongue and teeth. Yech! he coughed while managing to get to his knees. Tastes like crap! Readjusting his outer clothing and equipment he lurched to his feet to shout for Alex and Ollie but stopped short when his eyes took in the farmstead and field he was standing in. Where the hell did this come from?

A muffled moan just ahead of him prompted him to look down through the grass where he could make out Ollie laying still. The harness holding his air and water tanks had shifted forward with the fall and one of those must have conked him a good one at the back of the head. Where his helmet had gone wasn’t apparent but he knelt by his friend to determine any injury and thankfully found no blood.

Ollie…Ollie! Stix yelled, hoping to rouse him. You hurt bad? Can you move? If Ollie answered, Stix didn’t hear him as a sharp crack above his right ear put him into his own darkness.

I’m sorry sir, but I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re trying to say. Ollie said matter of factly. Stix hadn’t heard the original question, but could hear what sounded like three or four other voices mumbling a quick exchange. My name is Oliver M’Bhuto, he added, and my identification is in that pouch you have over there. Through the lessening pain behind his closed eyes, Stix heard what he thought was the sudden angry sputtering of a woman. He slowly opened those eyes to see Ollie standing with his hands on his head looking frustrated and desperate, and completely understood the stiff posture. It wasn’t so much who the big man was talking to, but what that had him in such a state. Stix couldn’t get an accurate description set in his still thrashing skull that he could equate to anything he’d seen before. And he’d seen plenty.

Two ahead and one to either side were what appeared to be flat faced chimps or, at the very least, smaller kin to Bigfoot. The two nearest had wide bladed spears pointed at Ollie while the others carried gleaming gladius looking swords and oval shields nearly as tall as they were. Stix thought them to be about 4 feet tall, but they were close to Ollie so they probably appeared smaller than they actually were. Glancing about he noticed they were in a long low room which had a slanted plank roof with bits of grass and thatch poking through. The walls were a mixture of plain rounded boulders with cut stone blocks around doors and windows to square them up while the floor was simple packed dirt with rough woven mats strewn about.

How quaint, he mumbled as he stirred, and all hell broke loose.

Ollie dropped his arms and spun toward the bed where Stix lay and bumped into a table upending it. The sudden move and noise startled the four, and they rushed to surround the giant with weapons in motion to contain him. The closest swung his spear to clip him behind the left knee while another tried to flip a shield down on his head as the other two closed in on the right. They didn’t, couldn’t, forsee this stranger’s reaction until too late. In an instant Ollie had reached up to block the blow to his head and, while ignoring the ineffective tap to his leg, kicked out and sent the other shield holder flying back. A quick spin dodged a thrust from the second spear which he grabbed and simply yanked it from it’s owner. Tossing it aside he grabbed the spearman, shoved him into the first striker, and followed up with a low roundhouse kick to the ribs of the last shield holder who thought to stab in with his sword. He crashed into the bed where Stix was laid out.

Hey!’ Stix yelled out with a laugh. 'Why’d ja throw him at me ya big lout? You started this!

He needed something soft to land on,’ came a smiling response. I don’t wish to hurt anyone…just keep them from from poking me with something. I mean, look at them. These guys are littler than you are. Ollie began gathering a few of the weapons and laid them on the floor in front of two who had gotten to their feet while Stix helped the one that had landed on him. The fourth, the one Ollie had push kicked first, got up laughing and began jabbering excitedly at his companions. Ollie and Stix both held open hands out in a placating motion as Ollie slowly backed toward Stix’s bed. At that moment a number of others came rushing in, most of whom they recognized as human, led by a tall thin man with long white hair and matching fu man chu style mustache. He must be a leader, or respected elder, as the ones who followed him in quieted and lowered their weapons at a simple command. The four odd looking ones, their original guards, looked chagrined and a bit sheepish as they also moved to a place to the side of the tall man and all was quiet.

I think we may be in a spot of bother’ Ollie whispered to Stix. 'I didn’t want to hurt anyone, and I don’t know why they attacked me.

Well, ya over large lummox’ Stix chuckled back, ‘if I were guarding a grizzly and it made a fast move I’d probably do the same thing. He had been studying the four and could see that, for the most part, they appeared to be human but with much more hair than usual. They were shorter than average, but more powerfully built with broad shoulders and thicker arms and legs. That Ollie could toss them about was a testament to his own strength.

The tall man looked from Stix, to Ollie, and back a few times while making calming gestures of his own and speaking to them.

Ollie listened a moment then turned to Stix with a shrug of his shoulders. Sounds like a smattering of a dozen languages, but I can’t make out a word. You?

Nah,’ Stix replied. 'He doesn’t seem to want us bound up tho, and that’s a mark in his favor. He looked at the tall man and glanced at the others at his back and spoke with no little frustration. Look, we just ran from the fire and somehow got here. Can’t one of you speak English and tell us what’s going on?

The tall man made a ‘pfft’ sound and scrunched his eyebrows looking very confused. He turned to speak to a couple men behind him who darted out the door while a few others began to straighten chairs and tables keeping well away from the strangers. Stix and Ollie stood in place for a bit, not knowing whether to act calm or be wary when the door reopened and the two men returned. They carried two platters heaped with what looked like fruit, bread, cheese, and what may have been slices of meat that the tall man directed to be placed on a near table. He then smiled and beckoned to Stix and Ollie to join him there.

Do they expect us to eat?’ Ollie asked, incredulous. ‘Kidnapped, knocked about, tossed in a barn, attacked, and now they want us to eat. Bloody hell!

I know,’ Stix replied in a whisper. ‘But look at them. They seem more afraid of us than we of them. He fanned his arm at the remaining group near the door and Ollie saw he was right. They had an almost cowed posture and shifted about with eyes seemingly never looking directly at them.

The tall man pointed at the platter, then at his mouth with an exaggerated chewing motion. He then turned to a woman at the front of the group, pointed back at them, and spoke softly. Stix and Ollie looked at the woman who appeared to be early to mid fortyish. She was slender, but not skinny, with long auburn hair tending toward red which fell to mid back and tied at the nape with a dark ribbon. Clothed in blouse and long skirt of a linen like fabric on a 5 and a half foot frame, Stix thought her quite pretty. For an older woman, he amended to himself. Turning to the table with the tray of food, Ollie decided he was a bit peckish after all, and stepped over and tried a bit of what had to be fruit.

Stix’ he said, smiling. ‘This is great! Very sweet and juicy.

They happily munched away for a bit, both carefully avoiding the stuff that might be meat, when a commotion at the door grabbed their attention. The four original guards were bowing and saluting to the woman while trying to get past her without doing her any harm. Wary, Stix and Ollie stood up and backed away looking toward the spot where their equipment had been piled. They saw no need for concern as the four stopped some distance from them and laid their weapons and shields on the floor in front of them.

What the hell’s going on’ Stix whispered to Ollie. ‘What’re they trying to do? They looking for another go-round?

I don’t think so’ Ollie replied. ‘They seem to be offering us this stuff.

The woman spoke harshly to the four a moment and motioned for them to get out. At that point all four moved to protective position in front of Stix and Ollie and turned to sternly face her. One then bowed and spoke deferentially to her to which she slowly smiled and nodded. She stepped over and laid her palm on the head of each in turn, then looked up at the two strangers a bit perplexed but still smiling. She put her hand on her chest just below her neck and said Mada. She then put her hands on the shoulders each of the four in turn, who had turned to face Stix and Ollie, and spoke slowly. Bax, Wixand, Mutach, Io. She waited only a moment for them to figure it out when Stix chuckled and spoke.

Oh, gotcha, sorry.’ He put his own hand to chest and said ‘Stix. My name is Stix.

Ollie followed suit, laughing. Oliver, er… Ollie. My name is Ollie.

The whole group made a clownlike farce of greeting as Stix and Ollie were trying to shake hands and their new acquaintances were all bowing and saluting. The chaos evolved into relaxed good natured laughter which was a language they could all understand.

The woman, Mada, finally broke the reverie by getting the attention of the four and directing them toward the door. Splitting into two teams, two posted themselves on either side on the exterior while the others did the same inside. Mada herself then nodded to Stix and Ollie and left.

Stix sighed and turned to Ollie. Strange little dudes, but they seem nice enough. That Mada lady must be their boss or something.

Seems so’ Ollie said. ‘But where’d they come from? I’ve never seen their like before.

I know. They almost look like pictures of what they think Neanderthal looked like, but smaller and without animal skins for clothes.

Could be some sort of inbreeding or odd mutation’ Ollie mused. ‘At any rate, lets take a look at our stuff and see what’s been stolen.

At that, one of the guards that Stix thought was Bax, shouted and waved his hands back and forth as he shook his head. He pointed at their pile of gear and made an expansive gesture with his arms.

Damn!’ Stix huffed quietly to Ollie. ‘I can’t make out a syllable of their words, but it seems they sure as hell understand everything we say.

I know’ Ollie whispered back. ‘I noticed that earlier when the taller guy tried talking to us. Odd. He looked back to Bax and smiled as he shrugged his shoulders in apology and joined Stix at their things.

They first separated everything into what belonged to whom piles and proceeded to take inventory. All the outer safety clothing was accounted for and set aside. The smaller tools, knives, water and fuel canisters, and loose odds and ends seemed fine until Stix noticed a flagrant absence.

Chipper isn’t here!’ he exclaimed in shock. ‘That big ass axe of yours is missing! He turned to Ollie and saw no expression. Blank. The big man was looking at the floor, but at nothing in particular. Stix saw a face so deadpan he suddenly understood and was overtaken with mirth.

Ha ha ha’ he laughed loudly. ‘You tossed it! You threw that beautiful thing away! How could you do that?

It was big!’ Ollie roared back, noticeably chagrined. 'We were running for our lives and it was catching on everything! But he knew the excuse meant nothing. He’d never live this down when they got back to base, and he knew his buddy would have a ball embellishing the story even more. Guess I’ll just have to have a new one fashioned.

Bax and the other, Mutach, neared at the loud exchange with questioning looks and some nervousness.

OH…uh…’ Stix started. 'Um… he lost his axe. It was huge, taller than you and heavy. I could barely lift it but it was his favorite and, well, he feels bad about it. The two guards looked at each other, smiled, and returned to their posts. Stix turned back to Ollie and shrugged.

Well, there’s nothing to do for it now’ he said. 'Lets see if our new friends will let us go for a walk outside and see if we can figure out where we are.

CHAPTER II

Alex’s fortitude was wearing thinner with every step. He’d been walking for hours and his determined strut since the dog fight had waned to more of a plodding shuffle.

Gotta take a break he muttered to himself. In the distance, about a half mile, he thought, he saw a line of more of those strange trees winding around past the base of a rounded topped mesa. Ah, may be some water nearby came a hopeful mutter. With that he picked up his pace and headed, still going north east he’d figured, toward the trees and into the sunset.

That last fleeting thought stopped him cold and sent an electric shiver up and down his spine.

What the…? That’s impossible! came the loud exclamation. He was certain the sun was at a slight angle when he began this jaunt from the rope bridge. Keeping it to his right and back should have put him in the northern hemisphere, as he’d surmised, and going north and east. Having it on his right, but edging past him, surely had him heading west and south.

Where the crap am I? came a now rasping whisper. ‘How the hell did I get down here?" He dropped the poles to the travois and, slowly turning in a circle, tried to place his location. The dark grays of the soil, tall off yellow grasses, strange trees, and the numerous mesas poking up from nothing, was like nothing he’d ever seen before. At the very least a far cry from the North American mountains he had been in. He had never been far south of the equator so he may be in the Atacama desert of South America, or even Australia’s outback, but it just didn’t seem right in his head.

Now that he was fully conscious of the strangeness, he could pick out more and more anomalies. The rough grained soil, on closer inspection, appeared to be made up of whitish crystals, possibly quartz, mixed with ebony nodules laying in a fine gray dust. The stones, rocks, and boulders were just larger tightly compressed amalgams of the same. The mesas, some flat topped and some rounded, looked to be differing in their makeup as though a giant became angry and tossed his blocks about. Upon crashing down, the sides split leaving near vertical cracks and crags. Odder yet, from what he could see from a distance from any, was that they didn’t seem to be as weather beaten as those he had seen in the Badlands where he had undergone much of his military training. more jagged and newer somehow. Picking up the travois poles, still at a loss of understanding but needing a rest, he continued toward the trees.

One thing for certain’ he muttered to himself, 'I’m building a goddam fort before it gets dark.

Reaching where the trees curved around the base of the mesa, Alex was pleased and relieved to find a stream running through and meandering off to the south. Or north. Or wherever. The trees grew on either side of it in both directions, with fern like plants and reedy grass interspersed that ran down to the water’s edge. These trees themselves had a strange spiral twist up to the lowest branches which, unfortunately for Alex, were at least fifteen feet off the