Territory by Deb2

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CHAPTER EIGHT
REAPPEARANCE

DAY 15

Van Helsing's second visit was not staged to impress or intimidate. Shortly after sunrise, he simply rode down from the southeast in full view of whomever happened to look that way. Mazatl, pulling guard duty, spotted the rider first and announced, "He's back."

Danziger joined the guard several yards beyond the perimeter, as did Baines and Walman. "Looks like he's a morning person," noted the mechanic.

The remaining Edenites abandoned their morning activities and gathered to watch van Helsing's approach. He halted some distance away, so far off those without visual aids couldn't be sure he was the man from yesterday. For that matter, even thru the jumpers, his face wasn't recognizable altho' it was clearly visible. Yesterday it hadn't been. This was the first real look at the man anyone except Morgan had gotten.

Devon stood hands on hips, waiting for their visitor to act. True and Uly trotted up to her. She acknowledged their presence with a preoccupied flash of smile and clasped Uly's hand.

"I don't think he'll come down here," said the boy. "You may be right, Uly," replied his mom. Was her son using Terrian senses, or plain common sense? "Do you have any idea why?"

Uly shrugged. "I guess he's just scared." The boy wrinkled his nose. "I don't think he likes us very much."

Those were conclusions anyone could arrive at. Devon felt relief at her son's inability to provide more information.

"I don't like *him*, either," pronounced True. She crossed her arms defiantly and stared daggers at the distant horseman. "I don't like the feel of him."

"Like father, like daughter," observed Devon. The people around her were beginning to shift restlessly. Two visits in two days was unsettling. Danziger, Mazatl, Baines and Walman, off to themselves outside camp, were talking. Devon didn't like the looks of that private little conference. She released Uly's hand and shooed him and True into Yale's custody. True's first impulse was to balk; however, Devon's wary expression was reflected by almost all the other adults, and the little girl had second thoughts.

"Morgan," Devon summoned.
He nodded, an interesting combination of self-importance and dread on his face. Morgan wasn't stupid; he'd expected Devon to enlist his aid in dealing with van Helsing. That he was capable of a task the others were not, pleased him. That he didn't really know van Helsing, and dealing with the woodsman might be lifethreatening, did not please him. The bureaucrat stuffed his fear into a dark little corner of his mind and joined Devon at the front.

"I don't think he's coming any closer," she said, indicating van Helsing with a tilt of her head.

"Yeah. I can't say I blame him," said Morgan. He looked at Danziger and gang, armed with MagPros and the handgun Danziger had appropriated. "Not with General Patton and the 3rd Army waiting for him."

Devon smiled grimly. "Exactly. Let's go." Morgan raised his eyebrows--he'd expected more time to prepare, more discussion--but followed Devon. She deliberately avoided the knot of men, afraid van Helsing would perceive any contact with them as a threat. Danziger and crew would act on their own, if necessary. She'd have to trust their judgment.

Danziger was not happy with Adair's decision. Just walking right up to that guy, unarmed, with Morgan for protection, was a foolhardy move. Send Morgan alone; van Helsing evidently liked him. A few words, and the men headed out, attempting to flank the stranger as they had yesterday morning. They were not successful. Van Helsing's location made it impossible to get as close as yesterday and still remain under cover.

Alonzo made his way to Bess. She was plainly anxious. He squeezed her arm. "Hey, it's okay. The old man isn't going to hurt anyone," he said quietly.

Bess looked up at the pilot hopefully. "Did you dream last night?"

"No. Not *last* night." Alonzo's face was solemn. The earthgirl regarded the handsome man. Alonzo wouldn't quite meet her eyes. "What's wrong?" she demanded, in a maternal voice that made him feel like whatever was wrong was his fault.

He shook his head. It was hard to lie to Bess; she gave the impression of knowing you were. He gazed at Morgan and Devon, halfway to the horseman. Maybe that's how she bore living with Morgan. "I don't know," Alonzo mumbled, then more surely he added, "But I do know that he won't hurt us."

Bess didn't question Alonzo further. He must be pretty confused, because he certainly was confusing her. Sometimes, what the Terrians dreamed at him was hard to translate, but once Alonzo had figured it out, he'd tell them. She smiled a greeting at Julia, who smiled in return as she approached them.

"Got it," stated the doctor triumphantly, raising the diagloved arm.

"I really don't think you'll get a chance to use the 'glove, Doc," warned Alonzo. "Not on van Helsing, anyway." He said to Bess, "She has an obsession with that thing."

"Just as you have an obsession with ships, Alonzo," Julia shot back, unaware the aside to Bess was intended as humor. "Probably you're right. I won't get to examine him today. But if the opportunity comes, I want to be ready. I don't think he'd wait for me to get my diaglove."

"She's right, Alonzo," said Bess.
Before he could reply, Julia gripped his arm. "They've reached him."

The Edenites tensely watched the encounter, passing the available jumpers from one to another. Yale's cyborg eye served him well. His hearing had no such augmentation; that hardly mattered, as both Devon and Morgan were adjusting their gear. Cameron, peering thru jumpers, announced, "Get your gear ready, they're going to transss...what do they think they're doing?!"

"It appears van Helsing has asked them to remove their gear and they've complied," replied Yale, not answering Cameron so much as informing the others. He watched Devon take Morgan's gear and place both sets on the ground about 30 feet from van Helsing.

Alonzo again reassured Bess. "It's okay, he's just a little paranoid. Wouldn't you be?"

"Yeah." Suddenly she brightened; she risked a glance at the pilot and said, "You know, as primitive as he's been living, I bet he's uncomfortable with technology."

Julia fingered her diaglove. "Primitively", she corrected absently, flexing her gloved hand.

Bess realized Julia hadn't meant anything. Still, it hurt, maybe more because it wasn't intentional. The Earthgirl excused herself and walked over to Yale. Bess felt a sort of kinship with the old cyborg; he was stationborn, but he *was* a cyborg, thus 'different'. Also, he shared her strong belief in God, even if he wasn't Catholic. Yale was awful smart. 'Awfully' smart.

Yale didn't feel 'kinship', but felt no prejudice toward the woman, either. No doubt she sensed it. The tutor had accepted his role as spiritual leader humbly--evidence that he was suited for the position--and from time to time he and Bess discussed their beliefs. She'd surprised him greatly once, when he'd mused aloud, wondering what the Terrians would think of the inevitable missionaries. Bess had looked at him wide-eyed and stated what to her was obvious: "They don't need our religions; they have the same Creator, but every species has its own relationship with God."

Bess planted herself next to the him on the side the kids weren't. Yale assumed it was because, with his eye, he could keep the wife apprised of the situation. "I've seen nothing to indicate hostility on the part of van Helsing."

She didn't speak. She stood tensely, flushed, breathing a bit harder than normal. Yale said, "Your Morgan is a very clever man. He has diplomatic skills which are invaluable."

Bess readily agreed, tho' a bit sharply. "I know. Thanks for noticing."

Yale divided his attention between the three in the distance and the young woman at his side. "Are you upset, Bess?"

"A little nervous. Can you get a good look at them?" She had no desire to explain the true reason for her agitation, even to Yale. He'd think she was taking the grammar lesson too seriously. *She* thought she was taking it too seriously. The potential danger to Morgan must be making her hypersensitive.

"A reasonably good look. Van Helsing *is* savage in appearance. His hair and beard are quite unkempt. The leather apparel is well made, however. The man appears to be calm. Perhaps 'detached' is a more accurate term. Morgan also appears to be at ease. Devon, less so. Van Helsing is, as best as I can determine, speaking only with your husband."

"Maybe he doesn't like women," suggested Magus. Yale nodded. "That might be, although he did speak with Devon yesterday morning. Today, Morgan appears to acting as gobetween; it seems van Helsing will not respond directly to Devon; I've yet to see him even look at her. Morgan is apparently repeating Devon's statements."

"Morgan thinks he's about 35 or 40," Bess commented. "Indeed?" responded Yale. "I would say he is a man of indeterminate age. So much of his face is obscured."

"Do you think he might have been born here?" Magus, Yale, and the kids turned to Bess. "I know he told Morgan he'd 'earned his passage', but we don't have any proof of that. Maybe he's trying to scare us by making us think he's a dangerous criminal. Alonzo and Julia and I were talking about his making them get rid of their gear. If he was born here, he might not have seen a lot of stuff, so...he might not be sure what is or isn't a weapon." Her little audience looked at her expectantly, even Yale. His silence made her wish she'd kept her mouth shut. "Elizabeth and Franklin got to G889 over 50 years ago. Van Helsing could have been born here."

"So?" said Cameron, who'd caught the last of her statement. "For one thing, he wouldn't be a penal colonist," Magus retorted.

"That certainly makes *me* feel better. When he shoots an arrow thru my body, I'll have the consolation of knowing I've been murdered by a first generation native, not a criminal."

"I didn't say he *is* a native, I said he could be." Bess looked to Yale for support. "So he wouldn't know a whole lot about technology."

"You have made a good point," encouraged Yale. "We may yet encounter adults born on the planet having little or no experience with technology we take for granted."

Bess smiled. Yale was nice. She figured he was so smart, he didn't need for other people to feel stupid. Maybe some of that would rub off on Morgan.

Yale returned to his narration of the scene in the distance, keeping some observations--Devon's reactions--private. Van Helsing persisted in speaking solely with Morgan. Devon's stance told her old friend she was restraining anger. Morgan was looking a trifle uneasy.

Morgan *was* less sure of himself than yesterday. Van Helsing had remained motionless as they neared him, then abruptly spoken.

"Unarmed," he said.
"Yes," agreed Devon. "We want you to see that we mean you no harm."

"Foolish." And van Helsing spoke no more to Devon until leaving; he didn't even look at her. The demand they get rid of their gear was obeyed without question. Morgan endured van Helsing's unreadable stare while Devon disposed of the gear.

"Alright," she said upon returning, "we're beyond pickup range." It was a waste of breath.

"You haven't left," he said in Morgan's direction. Devon informed him, "We are preparing to. It may take a few days; we'll have to scout the best route. I'm sure you've noticed the TransRover is a large vehicle."

Van Helsing made no reply. He stared at Morgan, his face as animated as a statue's.

"We could be on our way sooner if you would give us some information about the area," Devon reasoned.

As before, van Helsing kept his eyes on the man. "We can't just pick up and leave," ventured Morgan. "God knows what kind of obstacles are waiting in that forest." Live ones with teeth, perhaps?

Van Helsing tilted his head east. "That's forest." "It is, and we sent scouting parties ahead to find the clearest paths," said Devon.

"Sometimes we backtracked. The scouts didn't always do the best of jobs," added Morgan.

The man nodded.
Devon considered her next move. For whatever reason, van Helsing would not speak directly to her. Fine, she'd humor him. "Morgan, does he know the extent of the forested land?"

Morgan was tempted to retort he wasn't a mindreader. But he was in this case, so far as knowing Devon's intentions, and he acted as an 'interpreter'. "Do you know how far we'd be traveling thru woodland?"

"Yes."
"How far?" Had van Helsing meant that as humor? Provocation? Or was he literal-minded to an extreme?

"At best, four weeks. At worst, never." "Not how long, how far," specified Devon. "He tends to measure distance in travel time," said Morgan quietly to her.

"But is that the travel time of a group like us, or him, alone?"

"Can you give us an estimate in units of spatial length? Miles or kilometers," he hurriedly added, lest the answer be given in inches or light years.

"Straight thru, 300 klicks."
"But we aren't likely to be traveling straight thru," Morgan pointed out.

"500 klicks. More."
"Once we're thru the forest, will we be able to cross the river?" Devon spoke as if giving dictation.

Morgan repeated her word for word, feeling ridiculous. "If you wish."
Devon closed her eyes in frustration. Communicating with van Helsing was like threading a needle in the dark. "Ask him if he'll prepare a set of directions or a map highlighting the major land formations and any obstacles we need to avoid."

"Will you draw up a map or directions which will help us get thru the woods as rapidly as possible? With the vehicles."

Van Helsing was silent. His gaze glided over the camp. Morgan looked back to see if something was happening there, like Danziger playing hero again. Nothing, just Eden Advance watching the show. Van Helsing tilted his head, Terrian-like, evidently studying the vehicles.

Devon stared as stonily at him as he had at her. The man was an enigma. His hair and beard were wild, uncut, uncombed, yet clean. The clothing fashioned from animal skins was immaculate; the jacket was decorated with tiny shells or bits of carved stone. Or Terrian bones, like Gaal? She couldn't tell exactly. Van Helsing wore boots laced 'round the calves like the Grendlers' boots; unlike theirs, his were neat, the lacing plaited cords of three different shades of green. Made from vines, perhaps.

The quiver suspended from the saddle was as carefully made as the clothing, no doubt filled with arrows even more carefully made. The saddle, the bridle--maybe Danziger was right. Either van Helsing was exceptionally resourceful, or he wasn't alone. Not always.

"I've considered your plight," van Helsing said to Morgan, who thought he heard a hint of sarcasm spicing the monotone. "Tomorrow, we go south."

"'We'?" cried the two Edenites together. Devon asked, "You intend to come with us?"

Morgan 'interpreted' almost before she finished. "You're coming with us?"

"I know the land. No backtracking." Morgan was not at all sure he wanted him in their party. Devon was quite sure she didn't.

"Just like that, tomorrow?" asked Morgan, receiving a nod in reply. "Not at dawn?" he complained wearily.

"Alright. Early, but not dawn." Van Helsing guided his horse back a few steps. He trapped Devon in a cold stare. "MagPros are projectile weapons."

Morgan looked at Mazatl, some distance from them, armed with a MagPro. He knew Danziger and Walman were poised for the attack, too. "I guess that's his way of saying we really *aren't* unarmed." The interpreter turned and watched their self-appointed 'guide' galloping away. Maybe he needed to pack.

Half an hour after they'd reached van Helsing, they were walking back to camp, and he was riding into the wooded hills.

The guards closed in on the diplomats, escorting them. John demanded to know everything.

"We leave tomorrow," said Devon, decisiveness ringing in every word.

"What?" Danziger cradled his MagPro in the crook of his elbow and grabbed Devon's arm, forcing her to stop and face him. Morgan didn't break stride; he felt trouble brewing.

"We're heading south tomorrow," repeated Devon. There was no question she meant it. There would be no arguments, no votes. She attempted to pull free.

Danziger responded by tightening his grip. He looked directly into her eyes. "Adair, have you noticed what lies to the south? *Dense* forest. The TransRover can't get thru. The *DuneRail* can't. We'll have to carve our way." He released her.

"Van Helsing will direct us," Devon replied; she managed to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. "We will have to clear a path in some areas, that's true, and it will mean limited progress at times." She folded her arms across her chest and regally surveyed the crew gathering around. They were as eager as Danziger to learn what had happened. Some, no doubt, would be as receptive. "It'll be hard work, but I have every confidence we can handle it." Devon turned to John again. "I'm sure you agree."

The mechanic frowned. "Adair. He will direct us? The same man who refused to give us a clue about the terrain has been talked into coming along as our guide?"

"He volunteered."
Danziger shook his head. The expression on his face clearly indicated John's feelings about the 'volunteer'. "You want this guy with us?"

"No. But I don't see that we have any other choice." "Cutting through those woods'll take months," Danziger said. "Van Helsing believes we can be at the ford in four weeks, if all goes well. The colony ship will probably arrive before we're prepared, as it is. We leave tomorrow, shortly after dawn. I suggest everyone get ready to roll." She strode away, taking her own advice.

"You're right, Danziger," said Mazatl. "He is a morning person."

John angrily thrust the MagPro at the guard and stalked off. The vehicles needed to be checked.

Alonzo caught Devon as she was entering her tent. "Hey." "What is it, Alonzo?" She was short with him, angry at van Helsing, at Morgan, at Danziger. She was angry at Devon Adair.

"We're alright. The old man won't betray us." Alonzo overlooked her rudeness. He understood it.

"Thank you," she replied curtly.
"Sure thing," responded 'Lonz. He quickly left Devon before she thought to ask questions he couldn't answer.

'The old man'. Uly had said last night van Helsing was old. And now Alonzo. Eden group's two links with the Terrians agreed on something ordinary senses denied.

"Julia!" Devon called.
The doctor was with her in seconds. "Yes, Devon, what is it?"

"Have you attempted to get any readings on van Helsing?" "He hasn't come within range," Dr. Heller replied, slightly lifting her still diagloved arm. She was curious about Devon's interest. Had she noticed something about him? "Why? Does he seem unwell?"

"When you scan Alonzo, how old is he, according to the readings?"

"Twenty-five to thirty. Why?" The astute doctor answered her own question. "You want to know van Helsing's age."

"I'd like to, yes. But the diaglove can't tell us." She nibbled her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Can you adjust it to discern actual chronological age?"

"I'd rather not try. Too risky." Julia sat on the cot. "Is there any equipment we can adapt?" "None that I know of. Perhaps with Yale's help, I can put something together."

"Please do."
"Devon, why are you interested in his age?" "The more we know about him, the better," she evaded. "Don't you agree?"

"Of course." Julia didn't press for the truth. Devon was under a lot of strain. The weight of the responsibility Adair'd taken on showed plainly on the woman's beautiful face. "Devon, Alonzo trusts him. I know, it doesn't make sense, but..."

Devon smiled briefly in appreciation. "Yes, he told me. The 'old man' is harmless."

Julia ventured a question. "Has Uly said anything about van Helsing?"

"He *feels* that the man is older than Alonzo. He *thinks* van Helsing is afraid of us and that he doesn't like us."

Julia pushed a stray lock behind her ear. Devon seemed to be increasingly troubled by Uly's bond with the Terrians.

"I'll talk to Yale," she said.

Thanks to Devon's foresight, Eden Advance was already prepared to leave. The most time consuming task was the dismantling of the dehydrator. It had served them very well, and would be reassembled when another chance came. The failure to preserve white-root nagged at Bess. The plant was more abundant and grew more lushly where it wasn't shaded. Whatever else they'd encounter in the woods, they'd find lots of shade.

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