Guardian Angel-6 Into the Fire, part 1 of 3

April 17, 2017April 8, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Jill and Ethan went to their room for the night looking forward to spending some time together; but as per his growing habit, Ethan had some questions.

“So, how is it that I was listening to you and Ali Pasha talk this afternoon and I actually understood part of the conversation?” he asked. “Come to think of it, yesterday I understood your Swedish comment to Lars about not revealing his gun.”

Jill smiled, but her response surprised Ethan. “Hold me,” she said, and he was happy to do that very thing. Then she kissed him like she was trying to wipe all the questions from his mind in a single blow. She nearly succeeded. He felt the tingling all the way down to his toes. “I’ve been so alone.” She added when they parted.

“You were abandoned?” He spoke tenderly and held her just as tenderly. He remembered what she said before, but he made it a question.

Jill shifted into a comfortable position deep in his arms before she spoke. “Not exactly,” she said. “You know I said we sent thousands of volunteers into the Worlds? Well, I was one of the ones who planned the routes so there would be no overlap.”

“Yes, I meant to ask how thousands of people could cover trillions of Alternate Universes.”

“The worlds.”

“What?”

“The worlds. It is sort of alternate universes, parallel earths shorthand.” Ethan merely nodded. He kept forgetting, but he said nothing because Jill seemed to be thinking hard about something.

“The volunteers select a local person and empower them in certain ways so they act as a kind of Guardian for that world.” She sat up. “Please understand. Even if we had millions of volunteers it would not be enough to cover all of the Worlds.”

“No, I get it.”

Jill settled down again. “Anyway, I helped plan the routes and made a few trips to some more difficult situations and locations.”

“I bet the powers on your Earth would love to get their hands on you. Your head must be full of secret information about the resistance.”

“It’s not a resistance.” Jill started to protest. “But, yes it is, sort of,” she admitted before she continued on her own train of thought. “Anyway, I came here, to your Earth I mean, during a war. Unfortunately, my mobile transfer unit was irreparably damaged by a bomb in some way.” She sat up again so she could turn to face him. “To this day, I don’t understand how that could have happened. I have gone over it and over it, but it happened, and though I got out alive, I had to salvage what I could from the unit and self-destruct the rest. The wrist unit contains most of the parts from my original flyer.”

“I see. So you got stuck on my Earth with no way to go home. But when did all this happen?” He thought hard and reviewed recent history, but he could not imagine that she came through somewhere in Iraq or Afghanistan.

Jill hesitated before she spoke. She laid her head snugly against his chest and refused to look him in the eyes again. “London, September ninth, nineteen forty.” Ethan tightened. He could not help it. She kindly waited a minute before she spoke again. “Does it bother you?”

“No.” He said, and as he thought about it a bit, he slowly relaxed. “And I know better than to ask how old you are, but there is one question if you don’t mind. If I am out of line, tell me to shut-up.” He paused, but since she held her tongue, he asked. “Any children?”

“Only one. A son. But he grew up ages ago.”

“Fair enough. I am not sure what kind of a step-dad I would be anyway.” She looked up at him then and he smiled. “But if you are willing, then as long as I am able, you won’t have to be alone.” He meant it. Jill put her head back down and Ethan found out that she was not above a few tears.

###

In the early hours of the morning, there came a terrible knocking on the front door. People shouted along with the knocking, and everyone in the house woke up. Jill bit her lower lip while she dressed, suspicious of something she chose not to share. Her own clothes were dry by then and Ethan followed her lead, though his white shirt was still damp around the cuffs and collar.

“What’s afloat?” Lars came sleepily out of his room and met them in the hall. They all went downstairs together.

One ugly man had a half-dozen guards at his back and he looked like he was trying to control himself. “I have my orders,” he said and shoved some papers in Ali Pasha’s face. “Your prisoners are to be added to the list in the slave market.”

Ali Pasha tried equally hard to be polite and control his own voice. “They are not prisoners. They are my guests, and you cannot come here in the middle of the night and put a black mark on my hospitality.”

“My orders say prisoners. The community guards in the wilderness only bowed to your authority because it was your ill-advised expedition, but since returning, they have filed a proper report with the authorities. The guards captured these people and they are to be turned over immediately.”

Jill translated and Lars guffawed at the last comment and added his own take on the matter. “They captured no one, especially the guard who fouled himself when he first saw us.” Ethan said nothing because he followed the conversation perfectly well without the need for Jill’s translation, and he remembered the question he asked earlier, which Jill never answered. He frowned at her, but she would have to answer later.

“But these people are not slaves.” Ali Pasha protested.

“You are mistaken!” The man responded sharply, but took a deep breath before he continued. “The Mullah has determined that they are escaped slaves, but since it would waste their flesh to get them to tell who their owners are and they would become of use to no one, he has determined that they will be sold again with the proceeds going to the mosque.” The ugly man waved his men inside. He was not going to argue further.

Manomar came from the back with three other men. He had his hand on his sword hilt, ready to draw the weapon on his Master’s word. Even as the guards came pouring in the door and turned out to be more like twenty, Manomar looked like he would have taken them all on at Ali Pasha’s bidding.

Jill, Ethan and Lars were quickly surrounded. Jill placed her hand over Lars’ gun, which the big Swede was itching to draw. “Hold on.” She spoke in Swedish. “You may find it more useful later on, but I hope it won’t come to that.”

Ethan had a terrible thought and shouted in his best Englander. “Manomar, look after the equipment. Be sure it is not taken or damaged.” Manomar nodded that he understood.

“Please go good.” Ali Pasha turned to the three and urged them not to make trouble. “Most mistaken here. I be straightening. Very sorry, but I be straightening.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Ethan said perfectly in the Ali Pasha’s own language. “I am sure everything will work out.” Jill took his arm and stayed silent, but she grinned as they were carted off to the back of the slave market where there were cages waiting for them.

Guardian Angel-5 Intermission. part 3 of 3

April 12, 2017April 6, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“There are some blonds here.” Lars pointed this out to Manomar as they looked down on the muddy streets from the roof. The roof was flat and set up for sitting out on sunny days, and that day was one Ethan called an Indian summer day.

Ethan could only eavesdrop on the conversation, because Jill and Ali Pasha were engaged in a heated discussion in Ali Pasha’s native tongue. Curiously, Ethan understood some of what they were saying, but not enough to follow along, so out of frustration he listened to what Manomar had to say.

“Slaves, workers, eunuchs come from all places,” Manomar explained. “There are all together some five thousand people in this colony, and five times that many more across the river on the islands and the Long Island, but they are mostly on farms. In many ways, and because of the good portage, New Ark has become the market town. The port is why the people moved here across the river. The slave market is here, and also the Examiners.”

Lars shook his big head. “I do not condone slavery,” he said. “It is one thing if a man contracts for service, for pay, or works to work off debts. We understand obligations to King and Country and Community, but slavery is going too far where I come from.”

“I understand.” Manomar nodded. “But here, the Examiners have spies everywhere to insure the purity of the faith, to be sure that the name of the Holy Prophet is not abused or overthrown in favor of strange ideas. If a man’s heritage is found wanting or his faith is suspect, he is not allowed the freedom to rule and corrupt others. Slavery is only one option, but it is common.”

“Money talks here as everywhere,” Lars blustered. “You can’t fool me.”

“Indeed it does.” Manomar agreed with a slight bow of his head, accepting his correction gracefully. “Thus, there are Christian communities all across the Old World which are allowed some room to live apart.”

“As long as they are not looted,” Lars said, grumpily, before he turned his eyes again to the crowds. “But the blonds.” He pointed again.

Manomar shrugged. “My Master says that the way we are breeding, it will not be long before there are only two people in the world, lighter skinned Lords and the slightly darker skinned slaves, and the blonds will be swallowed up among the slaves.”

“Selective breeding and a poor man’s caste system,” Ethan mumbled, but by then it was time to go down into the house for evening prayers and supper.

The food was wonderful, and so was the conversation except for a couple of innocent comments by Ali Pasha. “I do not mind eating with womens like many. I have also breaked bread with Christians many times.”

“Some of my best friends are Christians.” Ethan quipped. Jill stepped on his toes and squished them into the tile floor.

“No Renaissance, no Enlightenment, no Industrial Revolution, no technological revolution,” she said. “Still a late medieval world. What did you expect?”

“No women’s lib?”

Jill removed her foot and kicked him in the shin, but gently.

“Stop it.” Ethan turned to her.

“Stop what?” Jill said, coyly. Ethan did not answer in words. He leaned over and kissed her on the lips, determined to taste the sweet honey of those lips again. They had not kissed since Lars’ log house. Jill did not resist him. In fact, she had been asking for it.

Guardian Angel-5 Intermission. part 2 of 3

April 11, 2017April 6, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Morning came with the sound of Lars’ big voice ringing through the tent. “Come on you two. The lazy bug got you? We are moving today, going to the colony on the coast, but you better hurry if you want to eat before the long ride. Up!”

Ethan woke with Jill’s arm across his wrinkled white shirt and the rest of her snuggled up for warmth. There had been a chill in the wee hours that remained evident at dawn. He looked down and saw her smile. Neither was the least bit uncomfortable just as they were; but Ethan had a thought and pulled back a little.

“I need a toothbrush.”

Jill’s smile broadened as she pulled herself up. “And a hair brush,” she added as she pulled her long black hair back into a ponytail. “And a shower, and a change of clothes.” Ethan just nodded as he got up and put on his suit jacket against the cold.

They got Arabian ponies for the trip. Lars needed something bigger. Fortunately, Manomar had a spare stallion, and those two men rode most of the morning side by side, while Jill did her best to keep Ethan in his saddle.

“I’m gonna be sore and bruised worse than riding in the back of Lars’ wagon,” Ethan insisted. Jill just laughed.

It turned out Manomar’s “Englander” was far better than Ali Pasha’s, and he spent from that time on translating most of his Master’s words for the others.

“I had a son.” Lars explained to Manomar when they stopped for lunch. “Two sons, but they both died young.”

“I am sorry,” Manomar responded honestly enough.

“But I have a living daughter. I would not take all the gold in the world for her, and I am not sure if I will let her marry that Yon Veek, but I am afraid her mother has already decided.” Lars shook his head, sadly.

Ali Pasha laughed, knowingly, while Manomar spoke. “That is one headache I will never have to worry about.”

“How do you feel about that?” Ethan asked before Jill could shush him.

Manomar paused for a moment before answering. “My feelings do not matter.”

“Everyone’s feelings matter,” Ethan said. Jill nudged him then so he kept quiet, but he honestly felt that everyone’s feelings mattered and he could not help saying that.

They reached the colony around three that afternoon, having seen only small wild animals en-route, and no sign of people at all. Lars had imagined they were going to Hoboken, the Dutch outpost on the Jersey side of the Hudson River. “You know,” he said. “The place where the trains run.” But in fact, the colony was called New Ark, an allusion to Noah’s Ark. It looked like a fort, a strong, sturdy compound of wood which protected the port and a whole parcel of land from the surrounding countryside.

“Once we are having fighting with savages.” Ali Pasha explained. “Some are thinking Jihad on the savages would be working well, but some say cost in gold and men is too much for worth.”

Ethan noticed the guards at the gate sported rather large and sharp looking pikes. Some also had compound bows. They were ready for a fight if it ever came, but Ethan imagined that after a few bloody noses, the Native Americans rather chose to give the place a wide berth. The Moors and Arabs were always good on the battlefield. Tours was not an easy battle for Charles Martel, even in those worlds where he won.

Ali Pasha’s house was two stories and full of fireplaces. He said he was just using it for several months while the sea captain, the home’s owner, traded down in the islands. When the captain returned, Ali Pasha’s time would be up and he would pack up his wives and head for home in Malaga, Andalucía. Meanwhile, he was free to pursue his inquiries, which Ethan finally admitted were like scientific studies. As Manomar translated Ali Pasha’s theories on why New World deer differed from those of his home, or Englander deer for that matter, Ethan felt prompted to call him a Darwin in the making.

“And we will see how Darwin sits with the Koran in this world,” he cast an aside to Jill. “Bet they have a very different sort of monkey trial.”

Jill did not argue. “Islam is a very low tolerance religion compared to Christianity, especially when it comes to change.” They spoke quietly to themselves.

In all, it was a pleasant day. Ali Pasha had so many questions, but Jill and Ethan only answered his questions in the most general terms and offered no information on their own. They also convinced Lars to do the same. It seemed Jill and Ethan were well practiced at not telling everything they knew. For Ethan, it was standard practice for public relations work. It was harder for Lars, but even Lars understood that people had to learn for themselves and in their own time and way. It was not healthy to be handed things on a silver platter; and in fact, Lars understood that very well.

Ali Pasha was not dissatisfied. He had more information and new directions for study than he ever imagined gaining in a lifetime.

That afternoon, Jill put on something provocative and paraded around, playing with her veil. She dressed Ethan up as an Arabian Prince while the scullery washed their clothes. True, Ethan barely saved his dry clean only suit from the water in time, but the rest needed washing. Lars, on the other hand said he was good, and Jill and Ethan laughed together, and fell into each other’s arms, laughing. That laugh stopped suddenly, and they separated quickly, but there was something definitely there, even if neither was ready to talk about it.

Guardian Angel-5 Intermission. part 1 of 3

April 10, 2017April 6, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

By the time Ethan entered the tent, Jill’s whole disposition had changed. She looked ready to fend off Ethan by whatever means necessary. Ethan let go of his excitement with the breath he was holding as he realized that once again this was neither the time nor place for romance. They had cushions spread across the floor for their bed and a couple of blankets to ward off the chill, so Ethan took one blanket, sat down on one side, and pushed some of the pillows into a kind of wall of separation. Clearly, this surprised Jill greatly, but not nearly as much as what Ethan said.

“So, what do you mean you don’t know what side Dominic is on? Isn’t he from your paradise world?”

Jill sat on her half of the cushions, pulled her knees up to her chin and grabbed her blanket as if overwhelmed by a sudden chill. “It is a paradise,” she insisted with only the slightest whine in her voice. “Only presently we are going through some rough times.” She took a deep breath before she began and Ethan sat across from her, the little pillow wall between them.

“After we discovered that there were other earths, everyone got excited about the possibilities. You might say it was all Marco Polo and Christopher Columbus at first. Then, about four hundred years ago, we ran into the Sorvee. The Sorvee are an Assyrian-Akkadian people from a devastated, wasteland world. They wanted to colonize and enslave other worlds, and that really changed our thinking. There were other, earlier entrants into the Worlds that needed watching, but we did not fully realize the threats until the Sorvee opened our eyes. And they are still coming. Presently, for example, there are the Chernobyl, a people ready to break out into the Worlds almost any day, and they are filled with nano-chits. Do you know what I mean by nano-chits?”

“I think so,” Ethan said. He imagined little computers in the bloodstream, but he could not imagine how such a thing might work.

“Well the Chernobyl are slaves to their technology and no longer human. You see, world hopping can be dangerous.”

“What do you mean slaves to their technology?”

“It’s the microscopic silicon chits. The chits are self-aware, and connected like one giant mind. The people no longer have minds of their own and function only as vessels with hands and feet for the chits to use.”

“Gotch-ya.”

Jill nodded as she lay down and pulled her blanket up tight. “We have seeded organic anti-Chernobyl chits in every world we can reach, but the Chernobyl can still infect by personal contact if you have no internal defense.”

“So they are sort of like zombies. If they scratch you or bite you, you will get infected and they will take over your mind and make you like a zombie.”

“Mmm. Like vampires are able to make other vampires if they get their fangs in you,” Jill agreed. “The Chernobyl are just experimenting with world hopping technology, but it won’t be long before they break through.”

“World hopping does sound like a dangerous occupation,” Ethan said.

“Yes, and there are others that have come along in the last few hundred years, and some of them are as bad as the Sorvee and Chernobyl.” Jill lapsed into a time of silence.

“Your earth.” Ethan prompted, as he lay down beside the woman, careful to stick to his side.

“Yes, well, the people on my earth started taking sides. Many people want to fight back and help so that the people on all of those worlds can live their own lives and develop in their own way and in their own time. Some of us don’t like to see other worlds exploited, much less enslaved.” She sounded passionate about it. Ethan already knew which side she was on, and that was good because he agreed with her. “But others think we should not interfere at all, and the peace at all costs crowd is presently in control back home.” She paused as if to collect her thoughts and this time Ethan held his tongue.

“You have got to understand,” Jill started again. “There have been interstellar incidents, of course. Some real bad ones, but such things only happen very far away from home. For the most part, my people have not known war or fighting, or even had to struggle for a thousand years.”

“Paradise,” Ethan sighed.

Jill nodded. “We have spread active helpers, and by that I mean thousands of volunteers across trillions of earths, men and women dedicated to insuring the safety and security of the various worlds. Even with that, we know we have only scratched the surface of the worlds, but we felt we had to do something. We are struggling at home to try to get the majority to see the light. The response, though, and by that I mean the official response has come down hard on us. You see, the peace at all costs crowd may talk a good talk about avoiding conflicts and about non-interference and in an absolute sense letting nature take its course, but they have not treated us peacefully. Some of my people call them the stop the resistance at all costs crowd.”

“Violence against your own?” Ethan wondered.

“Yes.” Jill said it softly. She sounded ashamed.

“I see.”

“But Ethan, you can’t talk to the Chernobyl. Both sides have to want peace or talking is dangerous, Mister Chamberlain. Sticking your neck out just gives the other guy a chance to cut your throat.”

“Many scalps taken.”

Jill stifled a little laugh before she responded. “Exactly!”

There was a time of silence then as both thought about their situation and wondered what to say. Ethan finally broke the ice when he reached out for her hand. To his surprise, she gave it willingly.

“So you and Dominic. Were you once, um?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.”

“I see.”

There was another moment of silence while Ethan waited for Jill to realize it was her turn.

“And how are things with Susan?” she asked.

Ethan almost sat up. “Done,” he said. “Long ago. I don’t know what she was looking for, but it was not me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How do you know about Susan?”

“You’re not the only one with eyes.” Jill surprised him. “I knew when to go buy a coke, and I don’t even like coke.”

“I didn’t think you knew I existed. I never saw you look.”

“You’re not supposed to see a woman look. But I can look, too, you know.”

Ethan did sit up a little to look at her. “How come you never said anything?” he asked. Jill was on her back, but she just withdrew her hand and turned to her side to face away from him. Ethan let himself back down slowly and wondered why he never said anything. “Fraternization with locals against the law?” he asked.

“It is strongly discouraged.”

“So is that why you were so cold to me when we met?” Ethan surmised.

“It was safer that way,” Jill responded quietly, and he heard her settle in to sleep and said no more.

Guardian Angel-4 Out of the Frying Pan, part 3 of 3

April 5, 2017March 30, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Jill continued. “In this world, I would imagine the Arabs, not the Swedes, are exploring and settling the New World.”

“About twelfth century, do you think?” Ethan suggested as he carefully considered his surroundings. “About five hundred years less advanced than your Earth.” He spoke to Lars. “No knowledge of gunpowder.” Lars nodded but kept his mouth closed as he looked around.

“Fifteenth century since the Hadj,” Ali Pasha said, clearly not following the conversation.

“Now, don’t jump to any conclusions,” Jill interjected. “To begin with, advanced is such a subjective term. It is not really useful for establishing parallel dates. Second, I know of at least one group of European explorers who only brought enough technology, like bows and arrows, to be equivalent to the Natives Americans they faced to not scare them off. They hoped to establish an equal and friendly relationship.”

“Oh?” Ethan looked in her eyes. “And how did that turn out?”

“Many scalps taken,” Jill said and giggled and covered her mouth as if she just said a swear word.

“Only a quarter Cherokee?” Ethan asked. Jill nodded, and Lars caught up with the information and guffawed.

“Waiting, waiting, waiting! Everybody, please be waiting in speaking.” Ali Pasha interrupted them all, even as the women came back with trays of food and musical instruments of several kinds. A couple of eunuchs brought the drink, which at least in this Islamic world was none-the-less alcoholic, no doubt, because the water could not be trusted, and one man also brought a head covering for Jill which sported a thick veil.

“Eat. Quieting. I am thinking.’ Ali Pasha pointed to the food. He looked pensive, not upset, but like a man who was trying to digest too much all at once.

Jill did not fight the head covering, but immediately lowered the veil and tried some of the food. Ethan decided it must be all right, and Lars, especially, ate his share. Two women in a corner of the big tent strummed quietly on mandolins. A third woman blew softly on a flute in a rather European, almost Gallic kind of tune, and Ethan thought it was much nicer than the background music he was used to at his fast food hangout. The food was better too; not that he was surprised.

Ali Pasha spoke at last when he looked like his head was going to explode. “How is it Englanders and Sveedish come to this place? Is there many houses, cities inland we do not know? You say you coming from another world. But did you not spring from trees and scare my men?”

“No.” Jill spoke while Lars and Ethan filled their mouths with food. “We came from another earth, not a new part of this world, but a different world altogether.” She proceeded to go into a rather detailed explanation and repeated herself a couple of times when Ali Pasha and Lars had questions.

“Most daily decisions mean nothing. Most incidents echo across many worlds. The differences blend in and the mystery of life goes on,” she said. “It takes a major change, and often a series of changes to establish a new world-line, and even then they often run in parallel where they can for centuries—you know, like the same people falling in love and having the same children and so on.” She glanced at Ethan as she talked about children and the look in her eyes almost stopped his heart.

“Like if Alexander the Great got assassinated along with his father, that might have changed things.” Ethan suggested, out of a need to change the direction of his thinking.

Jill nodded slowly. “Like the Christ was born in my world, but I am sorry. I do not know if Mohammed was ever born.”

“No!” Ethan and Ali Pasha spoke together.

Jill nodded. “We don’t know any world where the Christ did not minister. Not my subject, but I understand it has made for some interesting theological discussions in some circles. But then, we don’t know anyone who traveled between worlds that early, except maybe one world.”

“But this is the world!” Ali Pasha insisted. He called to the eunuchs and had them bring both a map and a table. “This is the world,” he repeated as he got up from his seat for a closer look at the map and dismissed the female musicians. Shortly, just the four of them plus Manomar were looking over the medieval looking parchment. Lars said he liked the drawings of the dragons in the sea. Ethan was glad that this time he did not have to ask for a map. “This is the real world, even if not the only world.” Ali Pasha was getting it, but slowly.

Ethan let his finger trace the lines. “I would guess Charles Martel lost at Tours.” He said.

“He did, or it was a tie.” Lars nodded. “But his grandson made Aquataine and Iberia subject states, and Christianized them.”

“But not in this world.” Ethan countered. “Here, the Arabs and Moors went on to swallow up the territory of the old Roman Empire, including England.” Ali Pasha nodded. “I can’t tell about Ireland.” Ethan squinted.

“Allah’s curse.” Ali Pasha said. “No one can rule those barbarian infidels.”

Jill tugged on Ethan’s sleeve. “Did I mention I was a quarter Irish?”

“I suspected by your good right arm.” Ethan said. He stuck his chin out in a dare.

Jill responded by making a fist and putting it up to his face. “And don’t you forget it.” She grinned, as did he.

“Newlyweds.” Lars nudged the Arab who got a big smile of understanding.

“Mister and Missus Hill.” Ethan spoke quickly.

“Lucas.” Jill corrected him just as quickly.

“My name is not Lucas.” Ethan responded.

“So you want me to be Jill Hill?”

“Jill Lucas-Hill would work.” She shook her head. “How about Hill-Lucas?” He tried again. “Hill would work with Jillian.”

“When did you turn into a grunt?” Jill asked.

“Hey!” Ethan got a little sharp. “This marriage wasn’t my idea.”

“Fine! Then we’ll call it off.”

“Not in a million years,” he said softly as she stuck her fist in his face again and grinned.

“Okay.” She did not seem to mind the arrangement, and from the look in her eye, Ethan was led to hope that he was in way over his head.

“Definitely marriaged.” Ali Pasha sighed. “I have three just as stubborn, but rest are nice.”

“Ya. My Angelica has a mind of her own, but my Kirstie helps her Papa. Do you have children?”

“Twenty-one,” Ali Pasha admitted.

Lars whistled. “You must be a very rich man.”

Ali Pasha shook his head. “But a scholar must appear right.”

“Appearance.” Jill underlined the word and nudged Ethan

“The map.” Ethan interrupted them all and brought them back to task. “I imagine the Turks took Vienna early on.” Ali Pasha nodded again. After that, it was easy to see where the Moslems swallowed the world including several Mogul states in India and the descendants of the Khans in China, but they had all been converted to the Prophet.

“Where are the Lutherans?” Lars asked. He furrowed his brow, but Ali Pasha did not know the word.

“Christians,” Jill suggested.

“There are Christians in many places,” Ali Pasha responded with a wave of his hand across the map. “And many of them are not slaves. They have their own places apart for living.”

“The ghettoization of Christendom.” Jill named it.

“They do money well.” Ali Pasha nodded. “Helping this expedition, example.”

“And Jews?” Ethan had to wonder.

Ali Pasha looked serious. “I am thinking there are some few in Palestine. Simple peasants for sheep herding, I am thinking.”

“Face it gentlemen. This is a Moslem world.” Jill concluded.

“And five hundred years behind,” Lars said proudly, as if to suggest that the Moslem way was inferior.

Jill looked like she wanted to say something sharp, but held her tongue. When she finally spoke, Ethan figured it was a very edited comment. “Let us just say, given the level of technology, this is not a place where you would want to be stranded.”

“I agree.” Ethan encouraged her. “So now that there is light to see what you are typing, what say we move on?”

“No!” Ali Pasha interrupted with volume and a great waving of his hands. “I am not believing, but not disbelieving. Please. I am an inquirist. I come to this New World to study stars and natural things.”

“Shaman?” Ethan wondered.

“Shh. Scientist, I think,” Jill said as Ali Pasha went babbling on.

“I am thinking disappointed because stars here are as home, and grass and trees are as grass and trees, but now you tell me about worlds and I know nothing. Please. Of one I do believing, that you are knowing much I do not know. These things I must be knowing also.”

Jill patted the man’s distraught hand. “I was about to say we can’t go anywhere until the transitional unit has time to recharge. Would you mind if we stayed a couple of days? We would hate to impose on your hospitality.”

“Manomar! Oh, you are being here already. Make for my womans friend and lucky man a tent, and for the big one, Mister Lars, make two tents.” He added some words in his native tongue, clapped his hands several times and gave more orders as people and faces appeared. There was a lot of excitement in the camp after that, but Ethan felt an excitement all his own at the prospect of getting Missus Lucas-Hill-Lucas all alone.

Guardian Angel-4 Out of the Frying Pan, part 2 of 3

April 4, 2017March 30, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Despite being tackled, Ethan held tight to Jill’s hand when the flash of light came. Unfortunately, because the big man startled him, he failed to close his eyes, so the first thing he did was hear a bunch of shouting and screaming from men that he could not see for the spots in his eyes.

Did we land in a battle? he wondered. After the required moment of eye rubbing, he saw Jill staring straight ahead and standing still like a statue. Several spears were waving in her direction. Lars was on the ground, apparently dazed, but looking up at him. All around a campfire, dark skinned men held up swords and gripped their spears. Some pointed the weapons in their direction, some waved them wildly in the air, but all of them looked frightened and very shaken so Ethan felt it wise not to make any sudden moves.

“You still owe me two gold crowns,” Lars said with a guffaw as he came out of his temporary shock.

“Ha!” Ethan pointed to the crowd, which was warily keeping its distance. “You said you always wanted to travel.”

Lars stood slowly to his full height, which in the firelight made him look like a little giant, and that made the men facing them babble louder, and they backed up several steps. Lars noticed their predicament and immediately pulled his gun; but when he counted his opponents, he thought better of it and put the gun away.

A man in a long, multi-colored robe finally came from a distant tent, raving something in what had to be Arabic, or Moorish, or some North African tongue. One man broke from the pack of swords and spears and pointed at the trio, like his finger was glued to their faces. He let out a string of words that was so high pitched and rapidly spoken it was hard to distinguish one word from another.

The man in the robe eventually quieted the frightened man and stepped up for a closer look. He started with the big, older man, Lars. “Sveedish?” He asked.

“Ya.” Lars responded, but otherwise held his tongue. The man nodded and stepped to look at the other two.

“Cherokee?” He asked Jill.

“Only a quarter.” Jill answered to Ethan’s surprise.

“Ah!” The man’s face brightened considerably. “Englanders. I thought, unhappily, you were Alemans. I don’t speak Sveedish none, and Alemani not much good. I speak Englander far much better.”

“Glad to hear it.” Ethan quipped and Jill bumped him, but took his hand.

“But come, come. You tell Ali Pasha all there is to tell. Come, come.” He turned and started back the way he had come. They followed since it was the only way out of the pocket of spears. Jill had the presence of mind to shut down the laptop and return the machine, dangling wires and all to the briefcase, while she picked up the dimensional watch from where Lars had dropped it.

“So where is this place?’ Lars asked after a moment. He eyed the Moors who divided for Ali Pasha like the Red Sea parted for Moses. Ethan noticed that they stayed divided for him and Jill and gave Lars some extra space.

“I was typing coordinates and frequencies in the dark. Give me a break,” Jill said in her own defense.

“I don’t know Uncle Lars,” Ethan said. He lifted his hand up to rest on the big man’s shoulder. “But I can say we are not in Kansas anymore.”

###

“Ah, yes. Please to give your weapons.” Ali Pasha spoke at the door to his tent. “My eunuch, Manomar is most protective of my womens, even if I only bring three on this small expedition.”

“Your wives?” Ethan asked while he allowed himself to be searched. Ali Pasha nodded, and Ethan felt shocked, not by what was expressed so much as how it was said. Ali Pasha spoke as if it was the most natural and matter of fact thing to have a eunuch and a harem; but then Ethan understood all at once that for Ali Pasha, it was perfectly natural. Ethan was the one with the strange, cultural ideas in this world.

Jill, meanwhile, kept Lars from removing his gun belt. “Just the knife.” She whispered, and Lars nodded. Ethan whipped his head around at that, because it sounded like Jill said the phrase in Swedish and Ethan could not imagine how he understood what she said.

“Come, come.” Ali Pasha invited them to enter and take seats on the cushions that were arranged on the floor. He sat in the tent’s lone chair. Several women came scurrying in and knelt before Ali Pasha who spoke to them in his North African tongue before he dismissed them with a comment to his guests.

“Wives. Concubines, Slaves. What can one do with such womens who are only womens?” He said the word “womens” like it was a terrible insult. “They all want my attentions, but I would never do my inquiries if I let them.”

Jill took Ethan’s hand to keep him quiet and Ethan held his tongue, liking that prescription for his silence much better than being hit. Lars, though, did not get the message.

“So what is this?” Lars asked. “I don’t remember any Arab expeditions coming to New Sweden.”

“What is a New Sveeden?” Ali Pasha asked.

“Lars. The question is not what is this, but where is this.” Jill explained. “We are not in New Sweden anymore. We have gone right out of your world and into a completely different world.” Lars swallowed hard and Ethan saw that the man was beginning to understand that what Jill and Ethan had said in the courtroom was not just a fanciful story after all.

“Bless my soul.” Lars spoke softly.

Guardian Angel-4 Out of the Frying Pan, part 1 of 3

April 3, 2017March 30, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“I always wanted to go traveling.” Lars stood on the other side of the bars and talked while Jill munched on sausages, potatoes and various kinds of vegetables that were just thrown on the plate and which were not nearly as tasty as Angelica’s supper. Ethan listened and watched Jill in amazement as he turned up his nose and picked at his dinner. Kirsten was there, too; but all she could do was cry. Ethan imagined the girl liked them.

“I hear out past Fort Detroit, there are inland seas made of fresh water, but big enough where a man can be swallowed by the water and have no sight of the land. I hear out west, the Ohio River runs into a greater river that runs the whole length of the continent, sometimes more than a mile wide. I hear beyond that, there is a painted land and a canyon so wide and long and deep, you could put every fjord in Scandinavia together and it would not equal that one canyon.”

“All true.” Ethan nodded with another look at Jill, thinking that she must have a caste-iron stomach, or perhaps she let her taste buds have the night off. “I vacationed one summer on Lake Mead, I mean, that is near the Grand Canyon, and I have been to Mackinac Island several times.”

“Why didn’t you travel?” Jill asked, hardly giving Ethan a glance.

The big farmer shrugged. “Angelica came along, and then our son, but he died, and then Kirsten, and then our other son, but he died too. And then I guess I got old.”

“You’re not old,” Ethan protested.

“I’m nearly fifty,” Lars protested right back. “I can’t do what I did when I was twenty, or even thirty. I feel it in my back well enough when I do too much, let me tell you.”

“Papa.” Kirsten paused in her cry to encourage her father with a hug.

“But then I don’t suppose you two will be going anywhere now.” Lars shook his head, sadly and clicked his tongue, and that started Kirsten crying again. “I just wanted you to know, no hard feelings and all that. It was not my idea, you know. And I never thought you were spies.”

Ethan took a big bite of sausage and considered that it might actually be his last meal. He looked more disgusted by the food than afraid of hanging in the morning. Somehow, all of this had become plain strange and at present, he was having a hard time accepting that any of it was really happening.

“Angelica?” Jill asked. Ethan wondered what she was implying.

“Bad decision.” Lars continued to shake his head sadly. “The penalty is too much, even for spies. I am sorry. I never would have thought it would go this far.”

“So.” Ethan gladly set down his spoon and interrupted. “Do I get a last request?”

Lars thought for a minute before he nodded.

“How about some telegraph wire?” Ethan gave it his best, hopeful grin.

“Sticking to your strange story?” Lars nodded. “But they are watching everyone to be sure that does not happen.”

“Why?” Ethan wondered. “If the story is not true, then giving us some wire will not matter. But if the story is true…” He let the sentence hang in Lars’ mind for a minute before he finished it. “Then we are innocent of spying for the Anglish and really should not be hung.”

“Why should it matter to anyone if we get some copper wire at this point?” Jill added.

“I am sorry,” Lars said. “I am really sorry.” He hustled his daughter out of the cellblock and Ethan groused about the second-rate sausage.

“Still think someone will come?” Ethan asked after the food was thankfully taken away. He looked at the drunk in the cell across the way and wondered if the man would ever wake up.

“I don’t know.” Jill answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

###

Jill felt terrible about getting Ethan mixed up in all of this. She knew she would survive whatever happened in the morning, but at this point, he did not stand a chance of surviving. She wanted to cry but dared not for his sake, so instead she took his hand and held on tight. She needed his touch as much as she needed to give him what comfort she could. She knew he was having a hard time accepting the reality of all that was happening; but she also knew he would accept it in the morning if help never came. She did cry then, just a little, and he ended up comforting her.

After a time, the gaslights got dimmed and Ethan and Jill looked at the two cots. Jill wondered if they might spend the night together. That was when they heard a soft noise outside their window and a line of copper telegraph wire began to slip in between the window bars. Jill stood on the bed and looked out while Ethan collected the line. “Angelica.” Jill identified their savior.

“I used to be Anglish once.” Angelica refused to look up. “I’m not sorry I turned you in. I do not know if you are spies or not, but I do not think hanging is proper. I brought your wire. If you can save yourselves with this, be my guest. Hanging is not proper, only don’t come back.” That was all that the woman was going to say, and she turned around and walked away, leaving a big spool of wire on the ground beneath the window.

“Enough.” Jill turned back from the window. “I only need about six inches, not twenty feet.”

“Oh, right,” Ethan said. “Maybe two feet. I have always found I need more than I thought.”

Jill felt such relief, Ethan would never know. She spoke with a light heart while she cut off a compromise one-foot length with her teeth and the dull butter knife they gave her for her meal. “And you have been world hopping often?” she asked with her mouth full.

“No speakers and stuff.” He started to respond, like it was a real question, before he stopped and smiled. “No. First world hop was with you.” He sat down beside her and slipped his arm over her shoulder. “I’m saving all my world hops for you.” She elbowed him in the ribs, softly, but otherwise ignored him.

When the laptop was wired and ready, Jill took out the dimensional watch, as Ethan called it, and wired it as well, noting that there was plenty of charge in the unit. That was when the drunk across the way decided to get up.

“Jillian.” The drunk, turned out to be a young man who called her by name, which surprised both Jill and Ethan.

“Dominic.” Jill knew him right away, and he and Jill passed some dialogue in a strange tongue, while Ethan eyed this tall, dark haired, romance cover kind of man and took an instant dislike to him. Dominic pushed open his cell door, which was curiously unlocked, and he headed straight for the sheriff’s office. Jill took that free moment to whisper a different thought in Ethan’s ear.

“He says he wants to help, but I don’t know if I can trust him. I don’t know which side he is on.” She spoke quickly and held tight to Ethan’s hand. She slid the dimensional watch back in her pocket and picked up the laptop with her free hand. Ethan picked up his briefcase, and swung it once, like he might test a weapon. “Whatever happens, don’t let go,” Jill insisted, as Dominic came back and took a pen from a pocket in his cloak. A brief flash of blue light came from the pen and the lock on Jill and Ethan’s cell popped. The cell door swung open.

“This way,” Dominic said, and he led them out the back door to avoid the gas he had released in the front office. He checked carefully in all directions first before he waved them to follow.

“He says they have been looking for me, that he has a real transfer unit near and he has come to take me home after dropping you off.” Jill whispered as they walked through the dark streets. There were gaslights along those streets, but the lights did not illuminate much.

“So why didn’t he speak up sooner?” Ethan whispered back. “Why wait until we were ready to go without him? Was he going to wait until after we got hung to take us home?”

They heard a noise up front, somewhere across the street near a streetlight, and Jill spoke quickly. “We are known,” she said. “If we go with you and get stopped, we will end up back in jail. You check it out.” Dominic wanted to argue, but Jill cut him off. “I am not moving from here until I know it is safe.” Dominic looked ready to growl, but he merely nodded and went to scout ahead. Jill turned quickly to Ethan. “You are absolutely right,” she said. “It proves nothing, but I just don’t trust him.”

She had secretly turned on the laptop, and now opened it all the way. She entered Ethan’s password and waited for the stupid computer to boot, almost cursed twice and only held her tongue after a glance at Ethan. At last, she began to type and when she got ready to hit the enter button, a big hulk of a man stepped out of the shadows, grabbed Ethan and reached for the transfer unit.

Guardian Angel-3 New Sweden, part 3 of 3

March 29, 2017March 9, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Jill smoothed her long, straight black hair as they walked across the street toward the town hall. She was glad they had not been handcuffed, or worse, but then the three big men with their guns drawn were more than enough to convince her not to cause any trouble or try to escape. Ethan watched Jill fix herself and apparently thought that was a good idea. He brushed off his suit jacket and ran his fingers once through his own curly brown locks before they entered the hall and came up to the big courtroom door.

“Come in.” A man in a plain brown suit met them at the door and escorted them to a table. There was a second table alongside their own where a second man in a plain brown suit looked over some papers. Ethan’s briefcase was present and open, on a display table in front of a high desk at the very front and center of the room. The laptop, paper and pens were all laid out on that table in a neat retentive row.

“At least it doesn’t look broken,” Jill remarked casually. Ethan nodded and smiled as he sat down beside her, but at the moment, Jill could not imagine how they were going to get hold of their ticket home.

After a short delay, three men came in from a back room and took seats behind the high desk. Other men followed them in from the back and sat in what looked like a jury box. The man up top who sat in the center, the one Jill figured had to be the head judge, carried a file and pulled out a piece of paper to read it over before beginning the trial.

Jill tugged on Ethan’s arm. “That collar.” She all but pointed at what Ethan indicated he had already seen. All three judges wore a choker that glowed a dirty green color, like the dimmest fluorescent bulb.

“I thought they were merely a symbol of office and shrugged it off,” Ethan said.

Jill quickly corrected his thinking. “Those are mind control collars.”

“What? Who?” Ethan whispered back. “Not the technology of this world.” Ethan understood that much.

Jill shrugged. “Any of a dozen or so peoples,” she said, and Ethan’s eyes widened.

“I had not realized that traveling through parallel universes was so widespread.”

“You are Ethan and Jill Lugas?” The judge in the center spoke up and gave the couple a stern look.

“Oh yes, your honor.” Ethan stood and produced his friendliest smile. Jill remained seated so he glanced down at her. “It is Lucas.” He offered the correction and the judge duly made a note.

“You are Anglish?” The judge asked.

Ethan looked down again. Jill nodded. “Yes, your honor.” He said before he sat as the man in the plain brown suit rose and pushed on Ethan’s shoulder to get him into his chair.

“You have been accused of spying for the Anglish. How do you plead?” The head judge looked bored and Jill knew that was not a good sign. Their man in the brown suit, the defense attorney, started to say something about extenuating circumstances, but Ethan interrupted.

“Not guilty.” He said it rather loud and stood up again. “I have never heard of anything so ridiculous. Say! Why have we been kept in jail? We have done nothing wrong except visit your beautiful country. You have lovely people here who were very kind to us, but now we would just like to get our things and go home if you don’t mind.” It was a good little speech, which dropped the jaw of their attorney, but the gavel interrupted it.

“Another word and I will have you gagged.” The Judge meant it. Ethan sat down and drummed up a very bewildered look.

“Didn’t I see you on Broadway?” Jill teased quietly. “Too bad it won’t do any good.” She pointed again at the collars.

“How do you plead?”

The attorney looked at the couple, shook his head, and frowned. “Not guilty, I guess.” He did not sound at all confident. He sat back down, and after that, he would not look at them, much less talk to them.

“Bother!” The judge on the right looked like he was late for his luncheon date.

There were witnesses first, none of whom Jill or Ethan had ever seen, and they said all kinds of things that made no sense. Then Lars got to speak.

“No,” he said, honestly enough. “They did nothing nor said anything to make me prove them spies. There were only circumstances, and some curious things.”

“For instance?” The other plain brown suited man, the prosecutor at least took his job seriously. Jill looked briefly at the defense attorney and wondered when the snoring was going to start.

“Well, I just happened to find them in the field where the militia has been at maneuvers. God knows we all hope there is no war, but it seemed coincidence to me. And then Ethan, Mister Lucas,” he pointed, “was awfully curious about maps. He said he always liked maps since he was young. That could be. I do not know. But then he came in the night looking for telegraph wire. Maybe he has got some secret way of sending messages. I am not saying he has, but who can say? Those Anglish are clever, always coming up with new things.”

“Tell the judges why I wanted the wire.” Ethan shouted despite the mean stare from the head judge.

Lars guffawed. “He said he wanted to tie the witch to the bedpost.” Jill stomped on Ethan’s foot under the table. A couple of the men in the jury box snickered, but the judges did not even blink.

The prosecutor released Lars and turned on Ethan. “Mister Lucas, please tell us about this spy equipment of yours,” he said.

“It is not spy equipment.” Ethan erupted, like he had been waiting for his chance. “I’m a writer. The paper and pens are my job.”

“Also good for drawing maps which you like so much and making notes on an enemy’s strengths and weaknesses.”

“Nothing of the kind.” Ethan clearly spoke with as much exasperation as he could muster, and it was not hard to muster a lot. “Look. I have spent the last few months in love and getting married. I don’t know anything about wars or peace or anything of the sort, and for my wife it is even worse. You know how it is for women. Total preoccupation. At least it is a big deal where I come from. I tell you, we had no idea we were anywhere other than in a field, under a clear sky with the birds singing. What else do newlyweds think about?”

“Enough!” The center judge shouted, but Jill saw that Ethan got through to at least some of the men in the jury box. Maybe they had jumped to conclusions a bit too quickly. Maybe this was a case of innocent people being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The prosecutor was not moved. “And tell us about this strange black box.” He said. “A communication device? A bomb of some sort?”

Jill had foolishly hoped that they would not ask. Ethan looked at her with uncertainty in his eyes, so she stood. “All right. You have us,” she said. It was a big risk, but Jill saw no alternative. “But not in the way you think. This is called a laptop computer, and it is something way beyond the technology of your world. You see, we were visiting you, in a sense, but not on behalf of the Anglish.” She stepped to the table, opened the computer lid and turned it on. “The truth is, we are simple explorers, but something has gone wrong with our equipment so we are stranded here. We needed the wire to fix our machine so we can go home, that’s all.”

Everyone in the courtroom looked stunned to silence. Even the prosecutor stood speechless before the impossible fairy tale he was hearing.

Ethan went to join Jill, told her the sequence and typed in his password. Jill continued to speak while the computer booted up. “This device simply helps us gather and store information, and it will help us return home if we can get some copper wire that is thin enough. In fact, if you had some telegraph wire right now, I could prove it.” She put out her hand to invite them to let her give a demonstration.

Ethan held his breath. Jill still had the dimensional watch in her pocket along with the metal plugs she had shaped. The men who ran the jail decided not to frisk the woman, though neither she nor Ethan could imagine why not. Now all she needed was the wire and a few moments to connect the laptop to the watch, and to type, and they were gone, at least theoretically.

“No.” It was not to be. The head Judge’s face blistered with anger, and Ethan took the next few moments to shut down the computer to preserve the battery, hopefully for a later time. The judges did not confer so much as simply share a look. They looked at the men in the jury box as well, but clearly discounted any dissenting opinion and did not ask for their opinion in any case.

“This court finds you guilty of spying.” Despite the evident anger, the head Judge spoke in a very flat voice. “The sentence is death by hanging. Sentence will be carried out at sunrise. Court is dismissed.” The judges left, together. A few of the men left as well, but most stayed, like they were too stunned to move. It seemed the men in the jury box were as surprised as Ethan and Jill, and so were the guards, and the defense attorney, and the witnesses. Even the prosecutor had a look on his face that suggested that the sentence was excessive.

“Come.” One of the guards got their attention, even as Ethan closed the computer lid and finished reloading all of the so-called evidence into his briefcase. He carried the briefcase with him, and no one objected.

They were locked in again, and sat side by side on the cot in their cell. They had everything they needed to get out of there except the wire; but Jill was not for giving up.

“Someone will come.” Jill insisted.

“Did you see the stunned look on all of those faces when the sentence was pronounced?”

“Someone will come, and with the wire. They will come out of curiosity if nothing else.”

“Want to make love while we’re waiting?” Jill could not believe those words came out of Ethan’s mouth. She hit him in his arm, but not as hard as the night before.

Guardian Angel-3 New Sweden, part 2 of 3

March 28, 2017March 9, 2017M G Kizzia Leave a comment

“Goodbye.” Ethan shook Lars’ hand. “And thank you for your hospitality.”

Lars just smiled but after they parted, Lars patted the gun at his side a couple of times before he nodded, and he waved until the couple turned the corner.

“I think if there is telegraph wire anywhere, it will be by the train station. The telegraph lines parallel the trains,” Jill spoke to task as soon as she could.

“Good thinking, Sherlock,” Ethan responded. Jill gave him a curious look

“Who?” Her mind was focused on the wire.

“What, never read Conan-Doyle?” Ethan looked surprised. “I’m finding you a copy of The Hounds of the Baskervilles. Heck, I can get you the complete Sherlock Holmes collection and maybe occupy thirty minutes of your time.”

“Ah.” Jill remembered, but she changed the subject even as she took his arm. “Tell me honestly. Do you feel strange being in a world entirely different from any you ever experienced or imagined?” It had been a long time since she had felt the wonder of strange new places.

“Yes,” he admitted before he looked at her. “But I am glad I am here with someone who knows all about these sorts of things.”

Jill just walked for a second and took in those eyes before she shook herself, turned her head forward and spoke. “The truth is we are lucky we don’t look too out of place. This lab coat looks like a strange white dress, but it falls below the knees and that is important. Your suit is not entirely out of place either.”

“Except I don’t have the stiff collar and one of those great ties. They look just like a knot with some strings hanging down.”

“The truth is, if we look out of place at all it is because we are hatless.”

Ethan looked up. “I hadn’t noticed.” He looked around. “But now that you mention it.” A man tipped his hat for them and Ethan gave something like a salute and a smile in return.

“If we were planning to stay longer we would have to acclimate better,” Jill concluded.

“You mean, change our clothes and such. Maybe put you in one of those flowery hats.” He pointed.

“Appearance is ninety percent of the battle toward being taken as normal citizens of a given world.” She affirmed with a slight downturn of her lips. “But since we will be leaving shortly, God willing, we won’t have to bother with flowery hats.”

“What do you think our odds are of reaching your world this time?” Ethan asked casually as he smiled for a couple where the man tipped his hat and said something that sounded like “Goot morgen.”

“Less than before,” Jill confessed. She stopped walking and looked into Ethan’s eyes once again. “To tell you the truth, I planned to come here. But I did not plan to drag you along or come without my controller.” She started them walking again. “I think I really need to get you back to your own world. I’ve been thinking about what you said about Doctor Grimly, you know, and I would hate to see the nice old man charged with a double homicide.”

“Ah, yes.” Ethan tried to hide his disappointment, but Jill felt it. “And when you leave me there, I imagine it will be forever.” Ethan sounded stoic, but his tone of voice forced Jill to hesitate.

“You like the idea of seeing other worlds don’t you?” They reached the train station and stopped walking so they could face each other. “What is it? Is it like some explorer instinct? You want to see what is out there?”

Ethan grabbed Jill by the shoulders and made sure their eyes met again. “I like the idea of being with you,” he said.

A man came up to them and spoke. He had to repeat himself twice to get Jill and Ethan to break their eye lock. When they did, the couple noticed there were several men, and they had their guns drawn.

The first man repeated his words in his bouncy language but no one had to translate it into Anglish for Ethan. The couple, hands raised, were escorted off to jail, and one of the men relieved Ethan of his briefcase.

Guardian Angel-3 New Sweden, part 1 of 3

March 27, 2017March 9, 2017M G Kizzia 1 Comment

Jill woke first and sat quietly to watch Ethan sleep. She thought about what life might be like with something to hold on to other than her own wits. She knew she should not think that way but she could not help it. She had been alone for too long, an unhealthy long time, and she was unaccountably attracted to this young man, child though he was. Full of youth and life, Ethan knew how to laugh. Her life was so serious. She longed to be able to laugh again.

Ethan opened his eyes, smiled at her and sat up on his elbows. He winced and reached for his upper arm but that just made Jill’s smile deeper and stronger. She did like him. She could not help it.

“So what’s the plan?” Ethan asked. Jill changed the direction of her thoughts and put on her more serious face.

“This world had trains and telegraphs, but no internal combustion engines, and so no Wright Brothers, yet. “About 1875,” she said. She put the place in his time frame with the hope that his grasp of history would help.

“So we ought to be able to find the wire we need.” Ethan concluded and Jill nodded. She truly was glad that he was smart.

“So I was thinking, after graciously thanking our hosts for their hospitality, we walk to Hill Town. It should be simple enough to get what we need.”

Ethan got all of the way up when they heard the front door close down below. He stepped to the railing and turned his back on Jill to look over the edge. “I decided last night that this earth hopping might be a tricky and dangerous business.”

“World hopping.” Jill corrected Ethan’s terminology but did not disagree with the rest.

“Good thing my wife is the most brilliant and confident woman in the universe,” he said, and he reached his hand back for hers. Jill could not see the expression on Ethan’s face, but decided that was just as well since it meant he could not see her face, either. She gave him her hand even as she thought, how little he knows.

When the couple came down the stairs, Lars was going back out the front door.

“Ah.” Lars smiled and paused. “Our sleepy ones.” He caught Jill’s eye. “I should have gotten your husband up two hours ago for a ride to the fields to work off the toll.” He laughed, stepped outside and shut the door behind him. Jill suddenly felt embarrassed about sleeping so late, even if it was just seven o’clock. She should have made more effort to conform to the culture.

“I hope we didn’t wake you last night. I don’t think we got to sleep until late,” she apologized

“Auch!” Angelica waved off the apology and went to the kitchen to prepare some food for her guests while Kirsten plopped down in her Papa’s chair.

Jill paused where she stood, part way between the front door, the kitchen and the fire. She watched while Ethan took a seat in front of the fire and rechecked the contents of his briefcase, now that he knew how important the laptop was. Poor Ethan, Jill thought. She was sure this was the strangest first date he had ever been on. She sighed for his sake before she had a truly impish idea. She still looked at Ethan when she leaned over Kirsten’s chair and whispered in the girl’s ear.

“We didn’t sleep until very late.” Jill pointed to her lip and bit it.

Kirsten glanced at Ethan and turned crimson. Ethan raised a curious eyebrow. Jill knew he would ask later what she said, but for the present, she just smiled at him and took the seat next to her girlfriend. Ethan looked straight at her but shook his head in bewilderment and set down the briefcase between his feet.

Breakfast was good, all eggs, biscuits and plenty of bacon, but after breakfast they learned that Lars had loaded up the wagon and hitched up the horse for a trip to town. They were going for a ride and Angelica and Kirsten were coming as well, to shop.

Jill caught Ethan’s nervous glance. They both knew it could get tricky if they were asked too many questions about a town they had never been to; but she patted Ethan’s hand to reassure him and he nodded once to indicate that if it came up, they would think of something. Jill knew that their explanations for things at times might get extremely thin, but she felt confident that Ethan’s experience in marketing and public relations would not let him down.

###

The road, if that two-rutted, rock-strewn excuse for a horse path could be called a road, left them all shaken. Angelica sat up top beside Lars on the springboard, which shielded her, and Lars from the worst of the bumps. Kirsten rode in the back with Jill and Ethan, and since Kirsten seemed to take her beating in stride, Jill tried to mirror that same attitude.

In only an hour of bumps and jumps, they started to see houses, neat wood framed buildings set out in straight rows on both sides of the improving road. A short while later, they came to the edge of the town and crossed the railroad tracks beside the train station where two freight cars were linked to a steam engine that sent up occasional great billows of smoke. Downtown was only one street long, but it was long enough to receive traffic from a dozen residential roads. It looked to Jill like a picture out of some Victorian album. She pointed out several things that were peculiar to Victorian architecture and Ethan nodded but held his tongue. She was glad about that. He was learning.

Lars guided his horse into a barn-like structure where a gangly young boy caught the horse by its bridal. “Just water and a bit of feed.” Lars said. “We will be going home in the afternoon.” The boy nodded and held the horse steady while Ethan and Jill followed Kirsten down and out of the wagon, slowly. They were all bruised.

“I think we better go to the station first and see what time the train can take us back to New Amsterdam.” Ethan suggested while he stretched out the kink in his back. Jill hugged Kirsten and gave her some womanly advice about marriage, and she hugged Angelica as well.