didn't really want to walk around translating for people all night. They could have at least tried to learn some Afrak on their own, but no one else had care to. So now for all his effort he got to tell women, exotic with their dark skin, though the ones he'd seen had all had short curly black hair that looked interesting too, but wasn't like a birds bright feathers at all, that they couldn't really buy the pale giants.
If they'd listen.
The dock woman hadn't been bad, older than him by about twenty years, he guessed, maybe more if they lived longer than in Noram. She didn't seem to treat him any particular way really, just normal, if a little more flirtatious than a common woman from Noram would have been. Like he was a regular person and everything. It wasn't until they were going around to see how the city was laid out that he really understood the difference. The women on the dock actually dealt with foreign men regularly and knew not to act too superior. They were special that way. The rest of them didn't do that. Not at all.
For all that she half ignored the King sometimes, it seemed that their Afrak Ambassador was special like that too. Practically open minded and accepting compared to the average woman in the street here. They barely saw the men at all it seemed.
Mutta explained who they were and why they were there, and that they had the heir and second in line for the throne of Noram there and the Ambassador. Everyone seemed to think that Wensa was the Ambassador, being the oldest female and that Ursala and Karina were the heirs. They questioned them incessantly about how the rivers worked and how soon things would be coming together. Tor had to laugh after a while and elbowed Rolph in the ribs.
“Watch this.” Tor made his clothing look like one of Mutta's more colorful robes, a silk dress looking thing with pink, green and teal blue stripes running at an angle across it. Then he arranged the top to bunch a little giving him just the slightest hint of breast in the right place. Barely noticeable, about what Mutta had going on. Most of the guys in their crew didn't even notice, the Noram women didn't either. Suddenly he was the Ambassador though, young or not. It made the night easier, the only price being his dignity. Not that he had any of that left. But when in a strange land it was on him to try and meet their customs and ways, not force his on them.
With a bit of patience he turned the topic to how they produced food, and got one older woman with brilliant blue hair and orange eyes with catlike slits to explain how the whole thing worked.
Now she was exotic looking. Tor half wondered if he could drag her back to Noram to visit the King and Queen. That would go over well in court he knew. Tor wondered if she could see in the dark like a cat too. That would be useful for the military, if he could figure out how to make a change like that. No more making individual lights for them at least. They could just pass around one “eye change device” once.
If he had the land, he told Rolph, he could bring in water and do this in the wastelands north of the Capital. It would take work, but the idea was sound. They had the water there already now even, if they started in the area by Wildlands Station and the flight school. Mutta excitedly translated what he'd said and Tor found himself drug off into one of the dwellings. The other seventy odd people were left outside alone and without a translator. Hopefully Karina wouldn't sell them all before he got back. Maybe a few as a good will gesture? No, he decided. Not until after the work was done. The Prince nodded to him.
“Well, you know, the land is yours if you want it. As it is you should be doing something with your house. I'd love to see it be something there other than dirt and rocks myself.” The large red-haired man looked considering for a second.
“Yeah, you should do it. Just let me know what you need and when you’re ready.”
The women asked him questions about the wastelands, how dry it was, if he could get water there, then they explained how to start with grass to hold the soil, shrubs to break the wind and trees to pump water from the damp earth below, up near the surface so that other plants could use it. Focusing he relaxed and started memorizing what they said, the words becoming clearer to him as he listened, making more and more sense. It was what they planned for their own desert. It would be a garden soon.
Tor nodded his eyes half closed.
He needed seeds and workers. That and the land. It would work though. He could do it. Would do it. The idea just seemed right. Something inside him cried to him to try and fix the damage. After a moment he noticed everyone staring at him, so he shrugged.
“Sorry, I do that, lost in thought, creating a plan. Anyway, we'll go and set that water flowing for you tomorrow. Is that all right? We can take some of your people or get them from other places if you want, so they can learn how to work all the equipment. Knowing how to do it yourselves is always better than having someone else do it for you. I think that's true at least. We'll do the initial work for you though, since it will be easier to do from the air and we have flying gear. I didn't think to bring enough for your people… I can get you some if anyone wants? Just send word to me, later though, it will be a few months.” Everyone smiled and nodded affably. Really, they seemed happy enough to not have to fly, though Mutta spoke of its virtues with vigor.
He'd have to get her some flying gear and instruction then.
The door moved, a subtle shifting noted only because the air currents changed, and at first he didn't really see anyone, even though the girl that stood there didn't move at all. It was an eerie stillness that caught the attention, almost like she wasn't real or something. A statue instead of a person. She was about fourteen from her look, as pale as he was, or nearly so, like him with a tan was probably closer. Her hair was straight and black and she was gorgeous, really just stunning. After looking at her for a second he realized who she looked like.
No, who she was, which was ridiculous.
Insane.
Plus a little freaky that he'd just been thinking about how good looking she was. Creepy. Icky really, so he blocked that part out of his mind. The power of meditation to the rescue. After focusing for ten seconds he was simply alert and ready.
Why would his mother have regressed her age that much, and be standing inside a hill in Afrak? More, she wore Afrak clothing and her hair was long, where his mother had cut hers like the Queen had to support the troops in the war effort. Finally she smiled and rushed across the room, hugging him tightly. It was familial, not amorous, so Tor hugged her back patting her shoulder a little. Taller than he was, so was his mother, but not this much. This woman was at least five-nine. Like Burks. Well.
She spoke in Afrak, her eyes happy and a smile on her lips.
“It is you Green? Is all well? Bring you news of our daughter and her family?”
Tor shook his head and then spoke, not certain a head shake meant the same thing here. Some things like that were just different, and Mutta hadn't gotten to them all yet, focusing on spoken language instead.
“No. I'm not Green. Notice how short I am? My name is Torrance Baker. I'm the one with the magic rivers? If I have this right, and if I don't then the world is more baffling than I can handle, the one you call “Green” is my grandfather. Burks Lairdgren?” Tor made a few mental leaps but it made sense so he continued.
“And since you look identical to my own mother and just asked if I had news of your daughter, I'd hazard to guess you're my grandmother? One I've always been told was dead? Interesting. I can see why though. Bad enough I look like Burks, at least he lives far away from me most of the time.”
Ambassador Mutta nodded and smiled.
“Yes, this is the Gray!”
Of course she was. Tor nodded to the eerily still woman and smiled.
That only made sense, didn't it?
Chapter eleven
“You know, I think I'm being set up here.” Tor said in Noram standard to the woman that could easily have been his own mother. Probably was in the same way he was Burks. It was screwed up, but what could he do about it? The woman was family, so he'd deal no matter how bizarre the whole thing was. It's what you did.
She looked at him for a moment head tilted slightly as if asking a question, black hair shining, running like water over her right shoulder. The robe she wore was bright blue but a single color, not accentuating her figure at all. After a bit she smiled, a slightly doubting and bitter thing that he recognized as his mothers too. It was the one she gave him when he'd just said something stupid.
