From the dunes comes a stranger

Along the horizon, I see them, wrapped in cloths, covered in pouches, a long staff or a rifle in hand, sand kicking out behind.

Van Buren responds in its typical way. Rampart turrets arm and swivel to lock on; however, they don’t. The turrets search but cannot find the figure on the dunes.

“Uh oh,” I say, then scramble to the armory, find a rifle, load it, and call out, “Rogger! Rogger, where are you?”

I hear the clanking of tin and cursing before she responds, “I’m here, William! Along the Southern Wall!”

“Trouble from the West!”

“Meet you there!”

We convene at what we call the Western Wall. Rogger has a theory that Van Buren rotates insidiously, and perhaps asynchronously. So we could be wrong and probably are. But that’s what we call it.

“I’m all set here, William. Got the shot.”

I see Rogger with her rifle poised, beard flowing in the breeze, old hands steady.

My best approximation is not nearly that, but I’m in position, too, ready to punch holes in this person, if they wish us ill.

When they are about fifty meters out, they stop.

I wait to see what they will do.

They appear, also, to be waiting.

Rogger calls out, “Ahoy there!”

“No, no,” they say.

I look to Rogger.

She curses, says, “I know we’re not on a boat. Who are you?”

They unwrap a scarf, lower a breather mask, and raise goggles.

They, to me, look like a woman.

“I am Stephane,” they say, and it sounds like stuh-FANE to me.

Rogger nods. “What be your intentions, Stephane?”

They motion over their shoulder. “There’s a storm coming. I need shelter.”

A cautious eye wanders from Rogger’s scope to the horizon. “We’ve seen no signs of a storm.”

Stephane chuckles. “Trust me, dwarf. There’s a storm coming. Will be here within the hour.”

I whisper to Rogger, “Where did they come from?”

“Stephane, from whence do ya hail?”

“Crystaline. Well, recently, anyhow.”

“So, you have word of the Princess?”

“To hell with the Princess.”

Rogger asides to me, “Oh, I like that.”

I get bold enough to speak directly. “Have you by chance seen a warrior in full plate? Black mail, dark as night?”

“No.”

For reasons I can’t unscramble, I feel disappointed.

“I will not trouble you for long-term accommodation,” Stephane says, “and my skills are plentiful. I am certain I could be of service for while I stay.”

“We’ve had some trouble, see,” Rogger says. “We are good and kind folk, but we’ve been beset by foes. A new face is not welcome right now.”

Stephane nods. “Dandercrabs?”

Rogger nods.

“I understand.” Stephane throws down their staff. “I bring no mischief. No quarrel. I am true in my terms.”

Pem appears by my side, back arched and fur on end. She hisses in full strength. “I don’t trust her, William! Open fire!”

I look to see if Stephane heard. If they did, they are unfazed.

Rogger says, “Listen. We’ll take you in, but you must submit to our every inspection, each request, in full. We apologize if there be any indignity. ‘Tis not our way, nor our wish. But we must maintain security.”

“I understand and agree to your terms.”

Rogger looks to me.

I nod.

“Pem,” Rogger says. “Open the gate.”

Next time: “Pem’s departure!” ← click to keep reading!

Read the first cycle (The Station) in installments on the Adventures in Secrecy website: 1 > 2 > 3 > 4 > 5 > 6 > 7 > 8 > 9 > 10 > 11 > 12 > 13 > 14 > 15 > 16 > 17 > 18 > 19; or, in a continuous scroll on Tablo: https://tablo.com/t-van-santana/gaucho/.

Second cycle (Van Buren) installments on the Adventures in Secrecy website: 1 < 2 > 3 > 4 > 5

Gaucho #21