Technology Sucks

By David Schoen

Jack was a brilliant programmer and hacker, but he didn’t play well with others. He drifted from one dead-end job to the next. Theirs was a world under siege, or soon would be. Their only chance for survival required someone with Jack’s skills. Unfortunately, they lived in a different timeline than Jack. So they did the next best thing they could; they stole his mind. Now, stuck in a body that wasn't his, Jack was at a loss how a 21st century geek could help this pre-industrial world. He soon found out there was more to this world than what meets the eye.

Jack didn't believe in love at first sight, but from the moment he met her, Jack knew he'd do whatever it took to keep Alexandra safe; even if it meant his life. He just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Schoen
• Release date: Feb 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370767281

David Schoen

I'm retired from The Boeing Company after 40 years as an Avionics Engineer. I like reading, hiking, camping, and nature photography.

Book preview

Prologue

Stop! Shut it off! Shut it off! he yelled, and when the other man just sat there, he jumped up and hit the kill switch. That was way too close.

What happened? the other man asked.

I don’t know, but it wasn’t working right. We almost had them both in there together, the first man responded as he wiped his brow. That would have been a disaster.

How so?

You didn’t bother to read the notes? the man asked.

No, the second man said quietly.

If we don’t remove the original guy before we put the new guy in, they’ll both be stuck together, and they’ll go insane. As psychotic as that killer is, I can’t even imagine what the result would be.

We must have missed a step along the way, the second man offered.

You think! the first man exclaimed sarcastically. Let’s shut it down and reread the notes. And we better be quick. She isn’t safe as long as he’s still there.

I wonder why we even picked him, the second man muttered has they left the control room.

Which one? the first man asked.

Either one.

They have their reasons.

Chapter 1

The Arrival

I sat up and groaned. That was the weirdest, most realistic, most frightening nightmare I’d ever had. There I was, but it wasn’t me, or not just me, sitting in a medieval tavern staring at this cute chick behind the bar on the other side of the room. I was captivated by her yet wanted to defile her in the most horrific ways possible; both at the same time. I sat there in the dark for a few minutes, and as the nightmare began to fade, I lay down and fell back to sleep. By the time I woke with the sun, the nightmare had faded to a distant memory.

The sun was already up, and my alarm clock was dead. The day was starting out badly, and I just knew it was going to go downhill from here. Sometime during the night there must have been a power outage, rendering my electric alarm clock utterly useless. Good news was the sun woke me up. The bad news was it was an hour later than I was supposed to get up. I had the sinking feeling I was going to be late for my performance review. My boss and I didn’t agree on much of anything, and I was sure he was looking for any excuse to lay me off. This would surely help his cause immensely. I could just picture him with a sinister grin and an obnoxious laugh as he contemplated all the ways he could screw me over.

I stripped out of my pajamas – okay, so they were really sweats – as I sprinted to the bathroom. I turned on the shower to let it warm up while I brushed my teeth. Looking in the mirror as I brushed, I wondered if I should bother to take the time to shave the stubble I called a beard. Anything to improve my chances for a good review. A hot shower would soften up the hair, and I could scrape it off in no time.

As I jumped into the shower, it dawned on me that I still hadn’t followed through on my plan to upgrade my hot water heater to gas. Oh, the joys of procrastination. If I hadn’t been fully awake when I jumped in the shower, I was once the first blast of freezing water hit my skin. I think I set a record for the world’s shortest shower. Well, if I was still employed after today, maybe I’d upgrade that hot water heater next month. For now, though, the beard would have to stay. The last time I tried dry shaving I looked like I’d rubbed my face with poison ivy – and it felt like it too.

I skipped breakfast, not to save time, but because both my toaster and microwave were dead. It’s a good thing my body didn’t run on caffeine, or I would have been in serious trouble. Between the micro-shower and no breakfast, I figured I’d shaved a good 45 minutes off my typical morning routine. With luck and good traffic, maybe I’d make it to work on time after all. That optimism lasted just long enough for me to get in the car and press the button for the garage door opener. A battery-backed garage door opener would have been handy, but alas, no such luck. All hope of making it to my performance review evaporated as I futilely mashed the remote button over and over again.

With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes and dropped my head onto my left hand that was, by now, tightly gripping the steering wheel. I sat there silently cursing all my past-life transgressions – whatever they were – that had prompted karma to take such vengeance on me. Oh well. I didn’t care for the job and had been trying to build up the courage to just walk in there and quit. Maybe this was a win-win for me. I’d be out of a job I hated, and if I got laid off, I’d be eligible for unemployment. Aha! I’d found the silver lining. Karma wasn’t such a bitch after all. With a sly grin on my face, I sat back up. No urgency in getting the garage door open now since I’d never make it to my performance review on time. What a bummer, dude. I even chuckled.

Lifting my head off my hands, I slowly opened my eyes and gazed upon a large candlelit room filled with rough-hewn wooden tables and bench seats. In the far corner, off to my right appeared to be a bar complete with a woman dressed in what I could only describe as medieval clothing. My brain was slow to comprehend what my eyes were seeing, and then I looked down. My steering wheel had been replaced with a tin plate of stew, an old worn spoon, and a mug of some frothy beverage. For a second, I just stared at the plate of stew and the mug of grog. That’s how my brain saw it; as a mug of grog. Slowly the nightmare from last night began to resurface, complete with the cute chick. Something was different, though, those horrible thoughts that made it a nightmare weren’t there. But this wasn’t right. I had just been sitting in my car. Where is my car? Where am I?

What the hell!

I’m not sure if I shouted that aloud, or if it was just in my head. I jumped to my feet and smashed my thighs on the underside of the table. The plate bounced around crazily while the mug danced across the table like a drunken sailor and fell to the floor. As the bench I was sitting on tipped over, it got hung up on the end of my scabbard. Yes, my scabbard; including the requisite sword. The bench and I both pitched backwards, and I crashed into the table behind me. As I was falling and flailing, I caught site of the barmaid out of the corner of my eye as she looked up nonchalantly as if this sort of thing happened all the time. Some part of my brain found that both funny and disturbing. I thought I was going to laugh out loud. That thought lasted about a split second, and then my back smashed into the table behind me.

This wasn’t your typical movie-set table made from balsa wood. It wasn’t meant to shatter when the sheriff and the villain fell off the stairs during the inevitable bar-fight scene. These tables were made from two-inch thick solid wood planks. No amount of fighting was going to break these tables, and my back didn’t break them either. Not only did hitting that unyielding table hurt like hell, it also knocked the wind out of me. As I lay sprawled across the overturned benches trying to catch my breath, I kept thinking this had to be the weirdest dream I’d ever had, and the most vivid. I wondered how soon I’d wake up.

Having had enough dreamtime adventure, I lay there with my eyes closed willing myself awake. I slowly opened my eyes fully expecting to see that ugly popcorn ceiling in my bedroom. I couldn’t understand, though, why my back still hurt like hell, and why I seemed to be having trouble breathing. I looked up, and all I could see was the face of the barmaid staring back at me. I snapped my eyes shut and slowly opened them again. She was still there.

She had a pleasant face. I wouldn’t call her drop-dead gorgeous, but she was cute; like the girl-next-door cute. She had a nice little nose that fit comfortably on her face and her lips were thin without looking shrewish. She had light brown hair pulled back in a single braid that hung over her left shoulder. There wasn’t anything truly exceptional about her face except for her eyes. They were almost an electric blue and showed intensity, determination, concern, gentleness, and a hint of the prankster all at the same time. I couldn’t tell you how I knew, but I was certain this woman had an extraordinary mix of traits. She was tough as nails with a heart of gold and had a firm belief in all that was good. There wasn’t a mean bone in her body, but she wouldn’t hesitate to kill to protect the innocent, and she’d be the first person to smash a cream pie in your face if the opportunity arose. That may seem to be a lot to deduce from a single glance, but that was what I sensed from simply looking into her eyes; those incredible, mesmerizing eyes.

Are you okay? she asked.

What?

I said are you okay?

Is this a dream? I asked.

No. Are you okay? she asked again showing her annoyance at having to continually repeat the same question.

How do you know it’s not a dream? I argued.

How does your back feel?

Like I’ve been whacked with an axe handle. My mind thought baseball bat, but my mouth said axe handle. Interesting.

Then it can’t be a dream, can it? she offered.

Why not? I asked.

Have you ever felt physical pain in a dream?

No, I stated.

That’s why it’s not a dream, she replied.

But my cart. The last thing I remember was sitting in my cart. And again, my brain thought car and my mouth said cart.

There’s a lot to explain, but now is not the time. You need to eat quickly so we can be on the road before sunrise.

But – I began.

All in good time, she interrupted. Food first!

She helped me to my feet, and we righted the overturned benches. I pulled the plate toward me after sitting down, and suddenly I was famished. I dug into the stew like I hadn’t eaten in a week. The bar maid headed back to the bar to replace the mug that had fallen on the floor. She returned shortly with a new mug and a second plate of stew. Eat as much as you can. It’ll be a while before our next hot meal.

Won’t you be joining me? I asked, hoping she’d sit with me. I couldn’t explain it, but I had an almost uncontrollable desire to be close to her.

I’ve already eaten, and I need to prepare for our trip.

And with that, she headed out the back door. As she opened the door I called out, What’s your name?

She looked over her shoulder as the door was swinging shut and called back, Alexandra, but you can call me Alex.

As an afterthought I called out, Who am I? but she was already gone.

As the door shut I returned to my meal. I finished off both plates of stew and the mug of grog. I expected a crude tasting beer, but it tasted more like cream soda. I was glad it wasn’t an alcoholic beverage. I didn’t need my brain any more addled than it already was. As I sat there still grappling with the whole bizarre situation, I was rather surprised I wasn’t more freaked out. Maybe it really was a dream. If so, it looked to be a very interesting adventure. And if not a dream, it still looked to be a very interesting adventure.

As my mind wandered among the various scenarios swirling around in my head I heard the door latch. Before it even registered I was on my feet with my hand on the hilt of the sword ready to draw it. This time I had deftly kicked the bench seat over without tripping. Alex walked through the door and closed it behind her. I see your mind and body are beginning to meld. That’s good. I’ve heard it sometimes can take weeks, and we don’t have that much time. As I opened my mouth, not exactly sure what my question would be, Alex held up her hand.

All in good time, she said, and now is not a good time.

She was no longer dressed as a bar maid. She now wore a pair of pants, boots, and a loose-fitting blouse covered by a leather vest. Her beautiful brown hair was tucked inside a large hat. She looked to be about five and a half feet tall, and she had a slender, almost athletic build. From a distance you might mistake her for a young lad. I wasn’t quite sure if that was intentional or not. Her entire outfit was black, including the hat. Around her waist she wore a belt with a sword on her left hip and a rather large knife on the right. Tucked in front was a pair of black leather gloves. If she was to stand in the shadows on a moonless night, you would never know she was there. Up until now it hadn’t occurred to me to look at what I was wearing. After a quick inventory I found myself wearing similar attire but in dark brown rather than black. A hat sat on the table to my right.

We need to go now. I want to be well away from here when the sun comes up. Picking up my hat, I followed her out the back door. Two magnificent and very large horses, one pitch black and the other dark brown, were patiently waiting for us. Wow. Color coordinated horses. I almost laughed. Before I could say anything, she turned and put her hand on my chest. Her touch was electric yet strangely comforting. I had never felt anything like it before.

By now you’ve realized you are no longer in your own body. You’ve also begun to sense that there are things this body can and will do that aren’t natural to you. It has skills you’ve never learned. You need to trust that this body, your body, knows how to do these things and allow it to work with your mind rather than have your mind try to direct your body. If you give your mind too much control, you’ll only be able to do what you’ve learned in your own body, and some of that will be done poorly. You, your body, possess certain skills that you’ll need if we’re to survive, but if you overthink those skills, there is a good chance it will get you and others killed.

Okay, I said nervously. That’s a bit scary. Apparently, you and your people don’t know me very well, I continued. This whole ‘don’t overthink it’ doesn’t work for me. In fact, that’s exactly what I do, and I don’t know how not to. If you’re expecting me to become a Chuck Norris or a Bruce Lee, you’ve chosen the wrong guy.

I don’t know of this Chuck Norris or Bruce Lee, but you can do this. And you will. You walk and run without falling. How many times have you started out on a journey and arrived at your destination and can’t remember the trip because you’ve been lost in thought? All this has happened because you have trusted yourself and trusted your body. The only difference here is that this body has a skillset you aren’t yet aware of. With luck we’ll have some time later to let your mind get acquainted with the skills your body already knows. Meanwhile, you’re first opportunity will be riding your horse. Just trust that your body knows what to do.

I so desperately wanted to be able to do this, and not just because I didn’t want to get myself killed. But even more so, I didn’t want to disappoint this woman I had just met and barely knew. Okay. This is all new to me, and it stills scares the hell out of me, but I’ll give it my best shot.

That’s all we can ask for. Let’s mount up and ride. I reached for the reins of the brown horse and Alex snatched them out of my hands. The black stallion is yours.

After taking hold of the reins, the horse and I began a rather comical dance as I tried to figure out how to get my foot in the stirrup. Don’t think! Just do! she said rather brusquely.

Okay, okay, I replied.

I stopped thinking about how to get my foot in the stirrup and simply pictured sitting in the saddle. In one fluid motion I had my foot in the stirrup and launched myself into the saddle. My brain was nothing more than an interested observer. So that’s how mounting a horse is done. I just hoped the other more important mind-body lessons would be as easy.

Alex took the lead, and we headed down the dirt road at a leisurely pace. I rode up beside her and asked, Shouldn’t we be going faster?

With a long ride ahead of us, I don’t want to tire the horses unnecessarily, she replied.

But if we’re being chased … I began while looking over my shoulder.

Who said anything about being chased?

If there’s no one following us, why the urgency to leave before sunrise? I asked.

Oh, that, she said. I want to be deep into the forest before the innkeeper returns to open for the day. He’s a nasty little man with a vicious temper and a mean streak wider than the Snake River.

Okay, now I’m confused. Well, maybe more confused.

I sort of borrowed his Inn last night after he’d gone home. We ‘arranged’ to have the scoundrel whose body you now inhabit ride through here after midnight. We knew he’d be hungry, thirsty, and very interested in a vulnerable wench left alone. This gave us a private place for the transition to take place. And if you recall your reaction, privacy was pretty important. Before you ask, I don’t fully understand how the transition works, and for now, neither of us needs to know.

So where has he gone while I inhabit his body? Is he still here or has he been moved into my body? I asked nervously.

No, he is not still with you, and he was not moved into your body. We wouldn’t do that to you or your world, she said.

Then where is he?

Gone forever I hope, and good riddance to him. He was a vile man who has done unspeakable things during his short life. When you leave this body, it will end up in a vegetative state and simply waste away.

What about my body? If he’s not in it, what’s stopping it from becoming a vegetable too?

For now, your body is right where you left it. Without your essence it is essentially in a vegetative state, but it will return to normal when you return.

How long can my body survive like that before there is irreparable damage? I asked.

Several days depending on how healthy you were when you left.

But if I’m here for only a day or two, how am I going to accomplish anything useful?

You’ll be here a lot longer than a day or two, assuming you agree to take up the task. For now, we’re off to Tristan College to see the wizard there. He’ll explain everything to you. Once Wizard Tristan has explained our situation, you will be given the choice to join us or return to your home world. In either case, regardless of how long you stay here, your time away from your own body will be short. I’ve told you all I know. Tristan will be able to explain it all to you when we see him.

All in good time? I asked.

Exactly, she replied with a slight smile.

Chapter 2

The Dark Forest

After several hours of night riding, I was looking forward to some sunshine, but just as the sun cleared the horizon behind us, we rode into the thickest forest I had ever seen. We were immediately plunged back into darkness. There was barely enough light to see the path in front of us. The undergrowth was so thick I couldn’t see much more than a foot or two off the road. It was borderline claustrophobic. I glanced at Alex, who was all but invisible in her black clothes. I could just make out her face in the gloom, and seeing how relaxed she was, I decided I should trust her instincts and settled back for the long ride ahead. We rode on in a comfortable silence with only the sounds of clopping hooves, and the occasional whistle of some unseen bird.

A few hours later we came to a small clearing. It wasn’t much more than a widening of the road, but the canopy above was thinner here and it wasn’t quite so gloomy. Although still not very bright, it was a welcome relief from the darkness of the forest road. To our left was a short circular wall with a bucket and wooden trough next to it. We’ll stop here to rest and water the horses, and we’ll rest as well, Alex said.

Although I wasn’t sore, it was a welcome relief to get off the horse and walk around. The wooden trough was empty, so I dropped the bucket down the well and brought up some water. After a few buckets of water, the trough was full enough, and Alex brought the horses over and tied them to a post on the opposite side of the trough. It’s been a long sleepless night. We’ll take a short nap before we continue on, she said.

Okay, I said. Should I take the first watch?

No need. Hardly anyone ever uses this road. There are plenty of other roads that don’t go through the forest, and most people prefer the sunshine to the darkness. If it was a decent shortcut, it might get more use, but it’s a bit longer than most other routes. We’re using it to avoid as much contact as we can. Meanwhile, get some rest, and if you do fall asleep, beware of the dreams. Apparently, there is always some residual essence of the original occupant of that body, and in your case, he was not a pleasant man.

Why did you choose him? I asked.

That’s for Tristan to explain, was all she’d say.

There was no need to find a shady spot to snooze since everywhere was shady. Behind the well we found an open spot that had room to lay out a couple of blankets where we settled down. It wasn’t like my bed at home, but it was surprisingly comfortable, and I was more fatigued than I realized. The second my head hit the blanket, I was out.

At first the dreams took no shape or form. I just had this terrible feeling of dread and a sense of pure evil emanating from my soul. I could tell it wasn’t mine, and I tried to stay clear of it. Then more recognizable images began to form. I saw a burning village and dead bodies everywhere. It was a horrific scene. Suddenly a woman’s face appeared in front of me. I could see the stark terror in her eyes and blood was gurgling out of her open mouth.

I sat up and cried out. I looked around quickly not wanting to see that dead woman beside me, but all that I saw were the well, the trough, and the horses. I sheepishly looked toward Alex expecting to see an amused look on her face, but she was still asleep. She appeared to be in some distress with her hands tightly fisted and held in front of her face like she was warding off blows. She was moaning softly, and tears were running down her face. She looked so young and frightened; it was breaking my heart to see her in such terrible pain. I lightly touched her shoulder and quietly called out her name. Her eyes flew open wild with fear, yet it was clear she was still deep in whatever nightmare was consuming her. She took a swing at me and I grabbed her wrist. She looked into my eyes and suddenly relaxed. She let out a soft little cry and rolled into my arms. She clutched me so tightly I knew there was nothing I could do but lay there and wait for her to let go. I settled back and wrapped my arms around her. I could almost hear her wildly beating heart begin to slow and feel her warm breath on my neck. I dozed off again, and this time, there were no nightmarish scenes or a sense of dread. When I awoke a bit later I was alone on the blanket, and Alex was sitting on the well eating what looked like beef jerky.

Fold up the blanket and come have a snack. We need to get going again. I’d like to be clear of the forest before nightfall.

After shaking the leaves from the blanket, I rolled it up and tied it behind my saddle. I walked back over and sat on the well next to her, and she handed me the jerky. Question for you, if you don’t mind?

She slowly turned toward me with a look that told me not to ask anything I was going to regret. She stared at me for a while and then turned away. With a small sigh she said, Okay.

What’s his name?

She swung back around, and her intense eyes locked on mine. Through gritted teeth she asked, Whose name?

My horse. What’s his name? I can’t just call him horse. She just continued to stare at me with a puzzled look as if she didn’t understand the question, so I repeated the question, What’s my horse’s name.

That puzzled look turned to astonishment and then to utter relief. I could see the laughter in her eyes before her mouth even opened. She started laughing so hard I had to hold her vest to keep her from pitching over backwards and down the well. It was the most amazing laughter I had ever heard. I was awestruck by the pure unbridled joy of it. I wasn’t entirely sure what was so funny. I had a sense, though, it wasn’t so much what I had asked, but rather what I hadn’t asked. I just held on and stared, completely overwhelmed by her and her wonderful laugh. You can let go now, she said.

Huh?

You can let go now. I promise not to fall down the well.

What? Oh. I gave myself a mental shake and let go of her vest, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her and that infectious smile.

With those merry eyes she cocked her head to one side and asked, What?

I came back with one of my more brilliant responses, What what?

What’s with the goofy grin?

Uh, I don’t know. It just comes with my face, I guess. Wow, another great retort.

As she reached down for the bag of food she said, Loki.

Loki? What’s a Loki?

Your horse. His name is Loki. I’m sure he’d prefer that to Horse, she said with a chuckle. While she stuffed the food into her saddle bags I just sat there and watched her. I had known this woman for less than a day and I was captivated. I didn’t believe in love at first sight, but already I knew in my heart that I would give my life to protect her. For some reason this brought a smile to my face. Just at that moment she turned to look at me and smiled back. God that felt good.

I got up and walked over to Loki. As I walked past her she gently laid her hand on my arm and without looking at me whispered, Thank-you. After a light squeeze she let go and climbed up on her horse.

I gave Loki a pat on the neck, and grabbing the saddle horn, I tried to get my foot in the stirrup. Unfortunately, at the same time I jerked back on the reins and Loki took a step back and knocked me on my ass. As I fell backwards the reins slipped out of my hands and I was sure Loki was going to bolt, but he just stood there staring down at me. I stared back at him and was convinced he was wondering what kind of idiot his rider had become. Above me I could hear Alex trying to stifle a laugh. I know! I know! I exclaimed. Don’t think; just do! That elicited additional laughter from her and I couldn’t help but laugh as well. After dusting myself off and taking my own advice of don’t think, I more gracefully mounted Loki, and we headed back down the road.

***

The next couple of hours were spent in quiet contemplation interspersed with an endless supply of questions. There was so much I wanted to know. The questions covered a wide spectrum of topics from flora and fauna to geography and history. Alex answered the questions about the animals and plants as best she could, but with geography and history and other human related topics, she feigned ignorance. I could tell she knew a lot more than she was telling me, but I didn’t press her since it was clear she wanted the Wizard Tristan to answer those questions. But based on what she did tell me, her world sounded a lot like my own world before the start of the industrial revolution. That is, before we began to systematically and royally screw up our environment.

By late afternoon the forest began to thin, and the endless gloom was replaced with a mosaic of light and shadow. I finally could see insects and birds zipping in and out of the branches. I saw traces of what had to be games trails. For the first time since I had arrived, I could see and sense living creatures beyond just Alex and the horses. I literally could feel my whole body begin to relax. I hadn’t realized how tense I had gotten from the isolation of the forest. As if reading my thoughts, Alex breathed a pleasant sigh and said, It’s always nice to be back in the sunlight.

I turned to her to state my wholehearted agreement when the words froze in my mouth. This was the first time I had seen Alex in the full light of day. On the right side of her face was a series of thin jagged scars that ran from her temple to her chin and crisscrossed over her cheek. Individually they weren’t large but there were a lot of them. Whatever had happened to cause them must have been traumatic and very painful. I couldn’t help but wonder if her dream was related to the event that caused those scars. In the darkness of the night and the gloom of the forest while the scars were all but invisible, I had been attracted to her simple natural beauty. But now in the light of day, with the scars impossible to miss, and for reasons I couldn’t fathom, I found her even more beautiful. Without so much as a glance in my direction and with a defensive undertone she said, It’s not polite to stare.

I was about to claim I was just looking at the meadow off to our left, but I stopped myself. It just didn’t seem right to lie to her, so I simply said, Sorry.

We fell into an uneasy silence. After a few minutes she said, It happened a long time ago, and it really doesn’t matter anymore. I was sure the first part was true and the second part not so much, but I knew better than to press the subject. It was her choice to tell me; not my right to know.

After leaving the forest we began to see more signs of civilization. There were stone walls everywhere, with some made from cut stone and mortar while others were simply piles of loose rock. I could see many cottages on the distant hills and various fields either freshly harvested or full of maturing crops. There appeared to be various grains and corn being grown in one area and orchards with a variety of fruit trees in other areas. Some of the fields had cattle and sheep. A couple of the closer cottages had vegetable gardens as well. Despite all this, there were no people to be seen anywhere. As if reading my mind again, Alex explained. This time of day these fields are usually very busy, but this weekend is the fair in Stanson. That’s the local township on the far side of the hills off to our right. This is the weekend everyone celebrates the New Spring.

New Spring? Based on the size of the corn, I would have guessed it was late summer or early fall around here.

You’re right. By seasons, the autumnal equinox was a couple of weeks ago, but the New Spring is not a seasonal celebration; it’s an historical celebration. It is not as simplistic as this will sound, but it is a celebration marking the time when mankind returned after the Great Purge. For the general population, that’s how it’s explained. There’s a lot of folklore and myths surrounding it. For the more educated folks it’s a bit more interesting.

You make it all sound so mysterious, and somewhat sinister.

Neither mysterious nor sinister. There are some historical details that are not generally shared with most of the people, and most don’t care to know. Their daily lives are all they need to be content. As in any civilization, there are some things best kept as secrets, but our basic history is available to anyone who wants to learn it. There may be some details not provided, but everything that is provided is factual. I know a lot more than most because I live at Tristan College, but there are some things I don’t fully understand. It’s best that Tristan explains it since he is our resident Wizard. I expect it will make sense to you based on your knowledge of your own world.

I’m not sure I will, I said. We don’t have magic in our world.

Magic? She just looked at me for a minute and then it clicked. Wizard Tristan. You think he is a magical wizard. She looked at me for another second or two and then burst out laughing. Magical Wizard Tristan! He is going to love that. And she laughed some more.

At first, I felt embarrassed, and then I started getting angry, and she continued to laugh hysterically. She was slapping her thigh so hard I was sure it was going to bruise. I was surprised she hadn’t spooked the horses. As I was about to yell at her, she fell off her horse and hit the ground with a loud grunt. She rolled over on her side and curled up clutching her stomach. I leapt off my horse and ran over to her and dropping to my knees beside her, I gently laid my hand on her shoulder. Are you okay? Are you hurt? I asked. I was totally freaked out because I had no idea where we were or where we were going. If she was badly hurt, we were in some serious trouble.

She reached up and took my hand and said, I am so sorry.

Don’t worry about it. Where are you hurt?

My stomach and my pride, she said.

What?

I said my stomach and my pride. She rolled over on her back and looked up at me with a silly grin and said, I’ve never fallen off my horse before.

I sat back on my heels and just stared at her. You scared the shit out of me! I shouted.

As she pulled herself up to a sitting position she said, That’s why I apologized. I could hear your concern. You are so sweet. I couldn’t tell if she was poking fun at me or not. I wouldn’t look at her. I just sat on my heels staring at my lap. This whole my mind in someone else’s body situation finally hit me like a ton of bricks. I could tell I was losing it and was unable to stop it as I began to shake uncontrollably.

I can’t do this. I just can’t do this, I stammered. You’ve picked the wrong guy. Yesterday, I was just some computer geek, sitting at a desk all day writing code. Today, I’m supposed to be some swashbuckling hero. I’m in a strange land. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who I am. I don’t even know what my name is. If you had gotten hurt, I wouldn’t even know where to go to get help. You guys have made a huge mistake. If I’m the best you could come up with, we’re all doomed just like you said last night. We’re doomed … we’re all doomed. I just sat there staring at my lap. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks and I didn’t care. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. I felt so lost and was more afraid than I had ever been in my entire life.

Alex got up and knelt in front of me and put her arms around my neck and we sat forehead to forehead. I don’t know how long we sat there in silence, but after a while the tears stopped as did the trembling. I’m sorry, Alex, I said. That wasn’t very manly of me. It came out so quietly I wasn’t sure she heard it. I … I … I don’t know how to be a hero–

Shhh … shhh, she whispered. She held my face in her hands and tried to get me too look at her, but I was too ashamed. I tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let go. Please, Jack. Please look at me, she pleaded.

That was the first time she had spoken my name, and it really was my name. Not some this-world name, but my actual name. I slowly lifted my head and looked into her eyes. The redness in her eyes told me she had been crying as well. Alex, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.

Oh, Jack, I am the one that should be apologizing, not you. I’ve been so selfish. All I’ve been thinking about were our problems here and haven’t even bothered to think about what you’ve been going through.

That’s okay. I’m sure you have a lot on your mind, I offered.

No, it’s not okay. I can’t even imagine what it must be like for you. You’ve been yanked out of a world you knew and understood and dropped into some new realm and you’ve been asked; no, not asked, but told you must perform some unknown heroic deed. Had you done the same to me, I would have lost it a long time ago. You may not recognize it yourself, but you have an incredible inner strength to go along with your kind and gentle soul. I tried to turn away again, but she wouldn’t let me. You have nothing to apologize for and nothing to be ashamed of. I would trust you with my life. And then she kissed me. We were both caught off guard by that. She leaned back and said, I am so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.

She looked down and was turning beet red. It was my turn to hold her face in my hands. I could feel the fine texture of the scars on her right cheek. There was a slight flinch as I touched them, but she didn’t pull away. I forced her to look at me and I said, I’m not sorry. And then I kissed her. It was the most unbelievable feeling I had ever had. I could feel the tension bleed out of both our bodies. And then we just held each other. It would have been an interesting sight for someone coming down the road. Two horses just standing there next to these two, crazy people, covered in dust, kneeling in the middle of the road, hugging each other.

The magical Wizard Tristan, she whispered in my ear and laughed. This time I laughed with her. After dusting ourselves off and retrieving our hats, we climbed back on our horses and continued down the road. There was still so much I didn’t know, and I still carried the fear, but now I embraced it rather than burying it. I felt I could live with it now that I knew I had someone watching my back.

Chapter 3

An Abandoned Cottage

According to Alex, we wouldn’t be getting to Tristan’s place until sometime late the next afternoon. She knew of an abandoned cottage we could reach by sundown. We would spend the night there and continue in the morning. I was curious why we seemed to be avoiding people, and she explained that there were many people around these parts who were familiar with the thug whose body I inhabited. Since he had a price on his head, it was best I stay out of sight until we could get to Tristan. She could see the fear rising back up, so she moved closer to me and reached out and took hold of my hand.

I know that sounds pretty scary, but Tristan chose this time to bring you over because we knew we’d have the road to ourselves. I’ve never known anyone to skip the fair in Stanson, so it’s unlikely we’ll run into anyone from around here. If we pass anyone heading east they won’t know about the bounty. Once we get to Tristan, there are things he can do to change your appearance, and no one will be the wiser. She smiled and squeezed my hand. Don’t worry, Jack. I’ve got your back. After a second or two she said, Wow, I’m a poet and didn’t know it. And then she laughed and let go of my hand. Love at first sight was becoming more believable by the minute.

About an hour before sunset we left the main road for a narrow path between two crude rock walls. A half mile or so later we came to a small stone cottage in a state of disrepair. There was no glass in the only window and the door had fallen off its hinges. Behind the cottage was a small corral that had been fixed recently, presumably by Alex, with the expectation we’d be stopping here on our way back. After entering the corral, Alex dismounted and closed the gate. I dismounted as well and immediately realized that knowing how to mount and ride a horse didn’t translate into knowing how to remove the saddle. I looked over at Alex, and she already had the saddle off her horse and was brushing him down. No chance for me to learn by observing. I walked up to Loki and looked at the saddle, looked under his belly, and pulled on the stirrup. I still had no clue. I stepped back and figured I’d have to swallow my pride and ask for help. I slowly turned my head and there was Alex staring back at me trying not to laugh.

With a sheepish grin I asked, Do I look as pathetically inept as I feel?

Her retort was, Do you really want me to answer that?

With a shrug, I replied, Probably not. I looked back at Loki. I haven’t the slightest idea how to get this saddle off. Apparently, that’s not one of the body-memory things.

No longer able to contain herself she blurted out, Apparently not, and started laughing. I couldn’t help but laugh as well.

Well, I said, barely getting myself under control, are you going to help or is poor Loki going to have to wear this saddle all night?

She walked over and handed me the brush. Lifting the left stirrup, she pointed, Just release that buckle and the saddle will slide right off. She winked at me, snatched the brush out of my hand, and went back to brushing her horse. From the shake of her shoulders I could tell she was still laughing. After I removed the saddle, Alex tossed me the brush and suggested I give Loki some TLC for putting up with me all day. Seemed like a fair deal. She came back a few minutes later with a bucket of oats for the horses. The water trough was already filled, so there was nothing left to do but return to the cottage.

Once inside I could see it was a single room with a dirt floor. In the corner farthest from the window and door sat a pile of hay. Based on the depression in the middle of it, I assumed Alex had slept here a few nights back. It’s not much, she, said, but it’s a roof over our head, and it will be a touch warmer than sleeping outside. Not a whole lot warmer, but this time of year every little bit helps.

I set up a couple of old stools and checked out the food bag. Meanwhile Alex was laying out our blankets on the hay. She had spread the hay pretty thin and put the blankets as far apart as possible. She caught me watching her, and she quickly looked down at the hay and stammered, I … I thrash around a lot in my sleep, and I know how exhausted you are with this whole ordeal and all. I just want to make sure you get a good night’s sleep. That’s all.

She wouldn’t look at me and acted like she was surveying the layout. I knew there was more to it than just letting me get a good night’s sleep, but I didn’t pursue it. She was like two people in one body. At times she was this strong, self-assured woman who seemed like she could take on any challenge, and then she’d dissolve into a shy awkward girl afraid of her own shadow. She was quite the enigma. But if anyone could relate to that, it was me. Put me in front of a computer and give me a program to write and I was unstoppable. I was the undisputed king of coders; well, at least in my own mind I was. But put me in any social situation that involved more than three people, and I would become the proverbial wallflower, the bystander, the fly on the wall. I would watch the party and envy the guys and lust after the girls. I’d see a girl I’d like to meet, but it was like I was super-glued to the wall. When the party ended I’d be back home alone as always. Kissing Alex earlier in the day had been the boldest and most exciting thing I had ever done, but I couldn’t help wondering if it was just one of those body memories and not really me at all.

I watched her fiddle with the blankets and could see that she was watching me out of the corner of her eye. A perverse part of me wanted to wait until she finally looked up, but I couldn’t do that to her. I knew all too well how she felt, or at least I thought I did. Truth be told, I didn’t know what she was thinking or how she felt. All I knew was that I was getting uncomfortable making her uncomfortable, so I went back to inspecting the food bag. I found a busted table with a missing leg and propped it up using the window sill for the fourth leg. Emptying the bag on the table I found a small candle and some matches. I set the candle in the middle of the table and lit it. Bread, jerky, and water by candle light. How romantic! I proclaimed and regretted it immediately. I was so embarrassed and did what I always did when I put my foot in my mouth. I inserted the other one. Umm, not that I was expecting anything romantic, you know. We’re just two people eating in the dark using a candle so we can see what we’re eating. Not that we really need to see it, after all, it’s just bread and jerky. No sense wasting the candle for that and we don’t want to set the hay on fire because then we wouldn’t have any place to sleep. Not that we’d be sleeping together, just that we’d be sleeping in the same room. And the whole time I was screaming in my head, Shut up, you idiot.

I plopped down in my chair and picking up a piece of bread, started nibbling on it. Squirrels everywhere would have been proud. I felt so humiliated, so I turned my seat and stared out the window. Alex came over and sat down, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her; instead, I just stared out the window. We ate in silence. I glanced in her direction a couple of times, and she was just sitting there staring out the open door. After a while Alex blew out the candle and gathered up the remaining food. The moon was above the hills and cast a silvery light in the little one room cottage. I’d like to get an early start tomorrow. We should get some sleep. Go ahead and pick a blanket. I’m going to check on the horses one more time and then I’ll bed down for the night. With that said, she walked out the door.

Do you want some help? I asked sounding like a little kid pleading with his mom to let him help bake the cookies. She gave me a forced smile and mumbled something about being able to handle it herself. After she left, I literally banged my head on the table. For once in my life I had gotten up the courage to talk to a woman I didn’t know, and all that came out was gibberish. The rapport we had been building during the day had just been flushed down the toilet. The whole babbling-idiot scene kept playing over and over in my head.

I sat there for a while hoping she’d come back in. I rehearsed all sorts of lines in my head with the hope that I could salvage some of my dignity and get her to like me again, but she didn’t return. I finally decided she wasn’t going to come back in until I was bedded down; probably to avoid talking to me. The only thing to do was pick a blanket and settle in. I took the blanket closest to the wall and lie facing away from her to act like I was asleep when she returned. After a few minutes I heard the rustle of the hay as she wrapped herself in the other blanket.

Good night, I whispered.

Good night, she whispered back.

I dozed off and found myself once again in one of those horrific nightmares. There was a house on fire and someone came running out fully engulfed in flames screaming in agony. I heard someone laughing and realized it was me. I woke up with a shudder wondering how long I’d been asleep. At first, I thought it was sunrise but then realized it was only a moonbeam slicing through the open window. Based on the angle of the light, I couldn’t have been asleep for much more than an hour. Not only did I still have most of the night to get through, but I was freezing to boot. I rolled over and looked at where Alex was wrapped in her blanket and could see she was shivering too.

Alex, I whispered, are you awake?

Yes, she replied.

You look cold.

I am.

Me too. I was afraid to ask the next question, but I was just too damn cold. Umm, should we maybe share our body heat? I’ve read that it can help.

She was quiet for a bit and finally said, Okay.

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath. It’s probably warmer over here since I’m farthest from the door and window.

She picked up her blanket and came over and spread it out next to mine. We both just lay side by side with our shoulders barely touching. I wasn’t feeling any warmer, but I was afraid to move.

Alex?

Yes?

I’m so sorry about what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to imply we were having a romantic dinner. When she didn’t reply I started to get nervous all over again. Somehow, someway, I needed to fix the damage I had done. If my idiotic babbling had driven her away, I’d never be able to forgive myself. I know we’ve just met, I added, and how can two people really know each other in such a short space of time. I was getting ready to say more, but before my babbling resumed she rolled over and put her finger on my lips. She slid over closer and put her head on my shoulder and draped her arm across my chest. A warmth spread through me that I knew couldn’t be from just shared body heat. Alex was still shivering.

Are you still cold, I asked.

I don’t know. I don’t think so, she said.

But you’re still shivering.

I can’t seem to stop.

Why? What’s wrong? I asked.

I’m scared.

Of what? Are you afraid of me?

Yes. No! I don’t know! I’ve never felt like this before and it scares me.

Feel like what? I asked.

I don’t know how to describe it. I want to grab hold of you and never let go, but I feel like I should run and hide. I want to laugh and cry all at once. When you were babbling before dinner I could see and feel your panic and your pain, and it was breaking my heart. I wanted to run over and hold you in my arms and tell you it was okay, but I couldn’t get myself to move. While we ate I desperately wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. She stopped for a second and then said, I guess now I’m the babbling idiot. Oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to imply you were an idiot. Once again, she got quiet and I heard her whisper, God, I am such a dork. I’m pretty sure she didn’t realize she had said that out loud.

I wrapped my arms around her and said, Aren’t we a pair of socially challenged kids. It was good to hear her laugh again. As I turned my head to kiss her forehead I laid my hand on her scarred right cheek and she jerked. I snapped my hand back. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. She didn’t say anything, and instead took hold of my hand and guided it back to her cheek. I gently traced the scars with my fingers and I could feel her tears soaking into my shirt. I had vowed earlier not to ask, but I couldn’t stop myself. What happened? I felt her stiffen and I was sure I had overstepped my bounds, but she didn’t pull away and eventually she relaxed a bit. She was so quiet I thought she had fallen asleep.

I was nine years old … she began.

The pain I felt in those five words was almost too much to bear. I’m sorry, I said. I have no right to ask. You don’t need to tell me anything.

Yes. Yes, I do, she said.

"We lived in an isolated fishing village on the northeast coast. It sat in a secluded little valley with its own inlet. The one and only road went up the valley and through the pass at the far end. In all my years there I don’t recall anyone ever using that road; at least not past the farms. All travel in and out of the village was by boat. About twice a year a small merchant vessel would sail into our harbor to bring supplies we couldn’t make ourselves: rope, canvas, nails, cloth, and the like. There was plenty of arable land so, except for the manufactured goods, the village was wholly self-sufficient. The farmers farmed, and the fishermen fished, and there wasn’t much in between. Even the shop owners were either retired fishermen or farmers too old to work the fields. Everyone was either a farmer or fisherman; everyone but my father.

"My father’s family had the largest fleet in the village and he was expected to continue in the family business. There was one small problem; he got seasick. He couldn’t so much as stand on a boat for more than a few minutes before he’d be turning green. He came from a family of mean sons of bitches, and he was picked on unmercifully by his brothers and father because of his affliction.