The New Terra Sagas

Chapter 9: The Orchard

Roy woke up to the sound of an animal eating out of a trough. Rolling over on the stack of hay he had been laid out on, he was eye to eye with a beast that looked like a cow with a goat's head and made a noise like a moose. Having grown up in a rural area, he knew not to move too quickly when so close to any animal, domesticated or not. Slowly he rolled over onto his back and took stock of where he was. There was a wool blanket on top of him and another under him. The smell was definitely that of a barn with livestock. It was clear that he wasn't in the cottage and he was wearing someone else's clothes. The animals seemed docile, and the tools on the walls looked like old farm equipment.

"Okay, I'm in a barn," he said to himself. "Why am I in a barn?" Slowly he sat up and rolled his neck trying to stretch out some of the muscles he had not used in the last week. His whole body was stiff, and it took him a bit of stretching before he could bring himself to his feet. Unaware of Katreena's panic at their evening together, he was somewhat confused at what had happened. "Get a grip O'Hara," he said to himself. "Maybe this is just another dream. Hell, for all you know this whole thing could be an oxygen-deprived hallucination." Taking a deep breath, he felt the dew-moistened air fill his lungs and smelled the familiar aromas of farm country. "It sure seems real enough."

Walking over to the door he looked outside to see a field covered in a low morning fog. He could just make out a few acres of farmland surrounded by a forest of tall trees. From the door, at the other end of the barn, Zohn entered carrying a wooden bucket. The grey-bearded man definitely looked like a farmer in his overalls and straw hat. A strong man with years of hard work etched in the lines in his sun-weathered face. He said something that Roy couldn't understand and then walked over to him. Reaching into the bucket, Zohn pulled out some bread and meat wrapped in a cloth and handed it to Roy. He said something else in a matter of a fact way and then put the bucket under the animal that was kind of like a cow. Sitting down next to it, he proceeded to milk it and hummed a song while he worked.

Not knowing what else to do Roy took a seat on a stack of hay and ate the food, but despite being hungry, he took his time. He needed to find a way to communicate with this man and was trying to figure out a way to start. At the academy, they had classes on diplomacy, linguistics, and alien cultures, but those lessons were many years ago and very general. The facts were that man had only made contact with a handful of alien civilizations, and those they did meet did most of the work at the first meetings. More often than not the aliens were more technologically advanced and had learned one of Earth's languages first. It was always the case that they taught the humans how to translate their language and others. Once humans became a part of the intergalactic community they never met a new alien culture alone. The Allied Expeditions Fleet was always made up of a variety of citizens from a number of worlds. That was until the war with the Serken began. Some of the other planets pulled out of the Alliance to avoid involvement in the fight. Then a decision was made to populate each ship with crews from the worlds they represented. There were many reasons for the segregation. For a long time, there had been a building of mistrust of aliens from all sides. From the beginning, the Earth was seen as too inconsistent and complex as to be trusted to deal with. Most of the alien cultures of the Alliance had unified themselves under single governments, religions and core beliefs before venturing out into space. But the humans still had a number of different countries, governments, laws, religions, and ideologies that were often in conflict despite a universal peace accord. Many of the citizens of the other worlds didn't know how to deal with humans and most avoided contact unless absolutely required. The Earth became the unwanted neighbors that nobody wanted to talk to, yet the universe learned to tolerate out of necessity. As a result, the lessons taught at the academy on how to meet and greet newly discovered people on alien worlds was a secondary priority at best. They were more academic exercises then practical ones. Roy suddenly found himself lacking in the skills that he never thought he would ever need and wishing he had paid more attention in class.

Roy chewed the bread, which seemed gummy like undercooked soda bread and then the meat, which tasted more like a squid than beef, as he contemplated his options. He wished he had his portable palm computer which had a translation function, but it was lost with everything else when he lost his survival pack. The meal wasn't large and even with small bites would not last very long. He was at a loss for what to do when it was gone. Just as he was swallowing the last bit of bread a couple of young men came into the barn, laughing and pushing each other like they had just been roughhousing. Roy watched as they put on aprons with large pockets on them, grabbed a couple of ladders and then headed out. Following, Roy walked over to the door they had gone out through. The fog had lifted enough, and on the other side of the field, there was an orchard of thirty to forty foot tall trees. He watched as the two men climbed up the trees and picked some kind of softball size fruit. The farm had farmhands. Seeing an opportunity, Roy grabbed an apron and a ladder. Then he headed out into the orchard. He figured that if he could show them he was worth keeping around, they might decide to continue to feed him and let him sleep in the barn. That might give him the time he needed to learn how to communicate. Then maybe he could figure out a way to find his ship and send a message for help.

As Roy climbed the ladder that he put up against the trunk of one of the taller trees, he discovered that his muscles were a lot sorer than he had realized. The broken bones had been mended, but the muscles hadn't been used in a few days. Yet a few bumps and bruises weren't going to slow him down. As a pilot, Roy had to stay in good shape and was accustomed to working himself hard, but the work was turning out to be more than he had expected. The air was a little thinner than he was used to, the gravity a little heavier and the day a lot longer. Nearly six hours had passed by the time the suns had reached their zenith, and everyone took a break for the midday meal.

Zohn watched Roy work as he supervised the work from the ground. He was surprised that the strange man who was supposedly injured was so quick to work, but he also respected a man who wouldn't waste a day. There were a few moments he saw Roy grip his ladder and close his eyes as if he was about to lose his balance, but he quickly regained his focus and continued to work. Zohn decided to say nothing and reserve his judgment on whether or not the stranger should continue until he saw if he had a hardy appetite at the meal.

Mara, Zohn's wife, and their youngest son Rall had brought a small feast out to a stone table that was a permanent fixture in the field. The meal included a large pitcher of some kind of juice made from the fruit they were picking, a roasted animal that had been about the size of a goose, slices of raw vegetables that looked like green potatoes and a basket full of small bread loaves.

Mara clapped a wood stick against a hollowed out wood block to announce it was time to eat. The boys jumped off their ladders and ran across the field for their first break of the day. Roy followed the best he could with rubber in his legs and the lead in his feet. Everyone took a seat at the table and helped themselves taking handfuls of meat, vegetable, and bread into their wood bowls and ate with their hands. Roy followed their lead and ate the way they did, following their example before taking any action himself. They were all in good spirits and extremely talkative, telling stories of the day's work, gossiping about their neighbors and teasing jokes about each other. It was a great opportunity for Roy to pick up some phrases, or at least learn some of their names. The language wasn't entirely alien. It actually seemed a little familiar at times, kind of like an old Celtic dialect. As a matter of fact the word for "No" was "Na" and the word for "Yes" was "Aye" which was similar to some old Britannia languages. He was nothing of a historian but was surprised to find aliens that were extraordinarily human-like and looking more as if they had come out of a history book rather than an alien planet, yet they did some things very differently. Towards the end of the meal, Mara poured everyone another cup of juice and then collected the dirty bowls. This didn't seem odd until she threw them into a barrel of water followed by a small crystal she pulled out of her apron. The water boiled and zapped with sparks of energy. Then with a large wooden spoon, she fished out the crystal. Roy watched with amazement as the water instantly cooled, and she retrieved the wood bowls that were completely cleaned. He tried not to act too out of place as he followed the boys when they got up from the table, threw their cups in the barrel and headed back to the orchard.

The day was only half over and the ladder he had to climb seemed taller as he started his assent. The work wasn't like picking just a few apples. A thirty-foot climb up, fill the large pockets on the apron with about eight to ten pieces of fruit that weighed around five pounds each, climb down, dump the contents of the apron into a wagon and then climb back up again. The first few times he had to stretch his body out with one hand while gripping a branch and the other picking the heavy orbs weren't too bad, but by the tenth time, he was feeling more than a burn. Yet he didn't stop; he couldn't. At that moment the farm people were treating him well as a guest, and he didn't want to do anything to lose that welcome. They continued to work through the day until both suns had set. Every muscle in Roy's body hurt, and all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep for a week, but the boys would not have that. They insisted with their gestures for him to follow them to the house. Inside was another meal waiting for them. In the center of the table was a large pie, with an oversized spoon. Each person dug into it scooping out a soup of meat, vegetables and what looked like dry grass. Roy smiled because aside from the grass it wasn't too different from the chicken pot pies his grandmother used to make. Scooping a small portion onto his bowl, he took a cautious bite not knowing what to expect. The taste was different, but not bad; a creamy, spicy meat and potato flavor with a sweet and buttery aftertaste. After such a long day of hard work, his appetite was much larger than he had anticipated. In no time his bowl was empty. Seeing that everyone else was helping themselves to seconds, Roy filled his bowl with a large helping. He paused a moment to make sure there were no objections to his presumption and seeing there was none, scooped a spoonful into his mouth.

Mara was happy that their guest was enjoying her food. She smiled and then stopped the active conversation at the table cold by asking Roy a direct question.

"Abair liom, tu' ith chromh maith carbs as duit?" she asked.

Everyone froze and looked at Roy. He stopped chewing and wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin wondering if he had done something wrong, but he was at a complete loss. She could have asked anything from "Are you enjoying the meal?" to "Who the hell are you?" There was very little in her actions or tone of voice that would clue him in on what the question was. Even if he did, he hadn't picked up enough of their words to say much more than "Yes, No and a few proper names." Not knowing what else to do he shrugged his shoulders, put a spoon full of food into his mouth and gave an oversized grin. Everyone laughed, and the other conversations continued. Mara kept looking directly at him and nodded with a big smile, that was until one of the boys said something she didn't like, and she hit his hand to correct his behavior. Roy was relieved, to say the least, and carefully watched the others for proper table etiquette. The evening meal was a little more leisurely than the midday. As they finished eating Zohn and his two older sons took out what looked like two foot long sticks with a small bulbous end. They stuck the round ends in their mouths and gnawed on them. Zohn handed one to Roy, who thought to himself "When in Rome," and stuck the end in his mouth. It was bitter at first, but as his saliva mixed with it, the taste changed to a sweetmeat like taste, not too dissimilar to beef jerky. For the next hour or so Roy listen to the conversation and picked up a few nouns, like "Rank" the word for the fruit they had been picking, "Anick" the name of a juice drink they made from the Rank and "Challa," which was the word for cup. It wasn't much of vocabulary, but it was a start. From the body language, he could infer some of the conversation between Zohn and his sons, talk of the good work in the fields, questions about plans for their future and comments about girls that they liked. Roy was able to make those assumptions because they were so much like the talks that he had with his own father. In a way, Zohn reminded Roy of his father. Not in appearance, but rather in the way he talked to his boys, with a tone of encouragement in everything he said. His father was a lot like that. It was his father's voice echoing in his mind that often gave him motivation. To hear it again, even in a language he could not understand, brought him a bit of comfort and reassurance that he would find his way home.

Zohn, as the man of the house, decided when the evening was done and with a simple statement from him, everyone went to turn in for the evening. He guided Roy to the door and walked him out to the barn. Once there he said something to Roy and then handed him a rolled up quilt. Then he headed back to the house. Roy unrolled the quilt to find a small pillow and some clean work clothes. He then knew he had a place to stay for a while.