Page 13 of Planet Zero
A woman hurried past him and lifted the flap open, tucking it in on itself to stay open. “Hoban” ducked as he went back in, followed by other tribesmen. Women went in next, but the children, including Melmie, stayed outside, clearly knowing better than to try and get in. Finally, the man holding the rope prodded Addie with a boot to the back of her knee - nearly making her leg buckle - and she preceded him to the teepee.
It was a large lodge supported by three sturdy posts made up of smaller twigs anchored together. The people stood shoulder to shoulder along the walls, ready for the spectacle to commence.
At the very back, opposite to the entrance, a big male was sitting on the backs of his heels on a raised pallet, obviously a leader. An older, thinner man dressed in a monk’s robe-looking garb in eye-popping yellow sat on one side of him, and “Hoban” had taken place on the other.
In the semi-darkness, Addie struggled to clearly see their faces, but she knew all eyes were on her. She felt their regard.
“Hello, good people,” she addressed the assembly, grateful that her voice didn’t shake.
A murmur rippled across the crowd, and a woman giggled, presumably at finding Addie’s accent funny.
The Yellow Robes was not amused. Her eyes gradually adjusting to the low light, Addie saw his face clearer now, with its short animal nose and puckered lips. Contrary to the custom, his For-thick hair was cut short and framed his head like snakes on Medusa.
He pointed a crooked staff at the man at Addie’s back and spat some words she didn’t understand.
The man did and gave her another, stronger kick, and this time she did fall to her knees. The Yellow Robes looked satisfied.
“Where is Qalae?” the big man in the center inquired in a rich baritone.
“I am here.”
The crowd respectfully lowered their eyes as a stunning woman with wide hips proceeded past Addie to where the chief was seated. Reaching the dais, she turned around, and Addie was struck by how regal she looked. And different. Definitely a For, her white skin and raven black hair stood out amid bronze complexions of her brethren whose hair ranged from flaxen to brunette.
She didn’t say another word, and the look she gave Addie lacked the potent curiosity of the rest of the people. She appeared bored by the spectacle.
The chief raised a massively brawny arm and pointed at Addie. “Speak.”
“Hello,” she said in For. “My name is Addie.”
“What kind of name is it?”
How to explain… “It is what I am called.”
The chief chewed on that. “Where is your tribe?”
“I have no tribe.”
“What happened to them?”
“Nothing. They are not here.”
“Where are they?”
“They are… far away.”On Earth.But Addie didn’t know how to say it. “I have no one.”
“Where are you from?”
How to find words to tell her story? “I came from afar. With some others, but they died.”
“Where from? How did they die?”
“I…” Addie was getting agitated, and her limited For vocabulary was getting harder to call forth under so much pressure. “I don’t know how to explain, I am sorry.”
The Yellow Robes’ eyes squinted. He didn’t believe her. He probably suspected her of witchcraft.
Suddenly, “Hoban” asked, “Did you live in the village that didn’t move? Were there others like you?”
The city! He knew about the city, about the women!
