Caspian had sat for a while, when the Ranger who had left came back into this area of the building with a plate of sandwiches, and pitcher of liquid. The three of then started in on the food.
The first one turned to Caspian. “You are welcome to one, if you like.”
He indicated the platter of sandwiches on the counter, and the cups next to the pitcher.
Caspian had to dig a moment to remember. “Thank you.”
He then took one of the sandwiches, and poured himself a cup of red liquid. The sandwich was two slices of a soft, light brown bread, with a yellow paste between. In the paste, Caspian found bits of crunchy vegetable, some agreeable spices, and some small cubes of something he did not recognize. Combined with his own food, it was quite satisfying.
Caspian felt that he had remembered enough language of the language. And that he had spent enough time sitting. He had a general idea of where he was, after looking at the maps, and listening to the language. And that allowed him to call in an unexpected marker. If he could just figure out how to. Only thing to do was ask. He leaned over the counter toward the first man, at his desk.
“How do I go about contacting a specific person?”
They all looked at him strangely for a moment. Then the map man spoke.
“Ar’ya on something, pal?”
Caspian was not sure of what he had been specifically asked, but understood the general nature just by the tone. “No. I have been away for a while, and do not remember precisely how to contact my friend.”
“D’you know his number?”
“‘Number’?”
The man picked up one of the devices from the counter, and put it down in front of Caspian. It had several arrayed sets of buttons, and a handle attached to a cord. A different cord attached to the back of the device and disappeared through a hole in the counter.
“His phone number.”
Caspian remembered now. “Ah, no. I do not remember. His name is Alistair Kevan. He is an Adjudicator, if I remember correctly.”
“Where?”
“In a court of law, I presume. That is usually where one does that.”
The man was obviously being a gentle as he could, but was loosing patience. Caspian understood and felt the same. If he had just reawakened his memory before coming to this magically dead place, he would be more able to get along.
“What city does he live in?”
Caspian had to think about this, wishing he had written down and kept this information. “Um… Sack…Sacro…Sacra…um…”
The woman looked up. “Sacramento?”
Caspian looked at her. “That is it. Sacramento.”
Caspian just stood and looked at the man. He could remember using the phone many times when he was last here, but its use in this case was still beyond him.
The man let out an exasperated sigh. He then took the phone back. He pushed one button, and the little box began to make a humming noise. He then pushed a bunch of other buttons, causing various tones to be emitted. He then picked up the handle and held it to his face, with one end over one ear and the other end to his mouth. After a few moments he spoke.
“I need some numbers in Sacramento…Yes. One moment.” He picked up a pencil and pulled a pad of paper to write on. He then looked at Caspian.
“What is the name of your friend?”
“Alistair Kevan.”
“And he’s a judge.” He wrote this on the top of the paper.
“I think that is what you call it.”
The man turned his attention back to the handle. “Yes ma’am. I’m looking for the work and residence numbers of an Alistair Kevan…I’m told he is a judge…No, I don’t know which court.” He made a face slightly exasperated. Then listened again. “You’re sure…Yes Ma’am.” He then spelled out the name as he wrote it. “Yes ma’am…I’m ready.” He then began writing numbers on the piece of paper. “Thank you. Good afternoon.”
He pushed a lever in the spot for the handle on the box. Then began pushing numbers, referring to one of the two sets of numbers on the pad. He listened to it the handle for a bit. “I’m looking for an Alistair Kevan. Yes. One moment.”
He then held the handle out to Caspian. “Your friend’s home.”
Caspian took the handle and put it too his face. He could hear a bit of static as something happened at the other end. Then a vaguely familiar voice came on.
“This is Judge Kevan.”
Caspian spoke in his native language. “Alistair. This is Caspian. How have you been?”
There was silence for a bit. “Caspian?” Then a familiar language. “What are you doing on Terra?”
“I would rather explain that in person. But I have no idea where I am, or how to get around. I need your help.”
“Tell me from the beginning.”
“I traveled in along the ley lines last night. This morning I was awakened by a young man in a brown uniform. We walked to his vehicle, and he brought me to this house, where there are another man and a woman in the same brown uniform. I have had a bit of trouble remembering the native language.”
“Let me talk to one of the people there.”
Caspian handed the phone back to the first man, as the map man had left. “Talk.” Caspian felt stupid for not bring more eloquent. But the idea got across.
The ranger took the phone and put it to his ear. “This is Ranger Smith. Yes sir. Yes sir. Nothing so far, but we have not really been able to question him. O.k. (Name) ranger station…Take the (name) exit. Once in town, take (name) street going east. At the edge of town it turns into a dirt road. Keep on it for about 30 miles. Then take the left fork. Five more miles and you are here. Yes sir, we can do that.”
He held the handle out to Caspian.
Caspian took it. “Hello again.”
“I will be up to get you sometime after dark. Just stay put, and be friendly. And keep your dragon out of sight.” The line then went dead.
Caspian looked at the handle for a moment, then put it carefully back on the phone. “I am to stay until he comes.”
“Yes. Can you tell us your name?” The man sat at the desk, his hands on the keyboard of the computer.
“Caspian.”
“Last name?”
“Not that means anything here.”
“Date of birth?”
“Fourth day of the month of Akil, seventh year of the reign of Sharius of Silvona.”
“In English.”
“That was in English. I am not sure how to reconcile the calendars.”
“Skip it. Citizenship?”
Suddenly Caspian remembered a similar scene being played out more than ten years prior. And how he finally got that person satisfied. “I am native of Silvona, and previously came to this land for study. I learned your language then, but have not had cause to use it since.”
“Great. Another kook.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pal. There are only two kinds of people in this area. Natives, and kooks. You don’t talk like a native.”
Caspian took a moment to digest what he had just been told. “I think it might be best if I just sit aside quietly.”
The Ranger punched a few buttons on his keyboard while looking at his larger box. Then moved a smaller device around and pushed some buttons on it. He then turned away from it, toward Caspian’s gear. He looked it over a bit, picked at it a bit, and left it be.
Caspian was glad he did not carry anything particularly nasty. For the rest of the day, he just stayed quiet and out of the way. His stuff was hung in a closet, out of the way, but otherwise left alone. As the afternoon progressed, the rangers came and went in several different vehicles, the dog moved a bit and went in and out at its leisure. They all seemed to regard Caspian as an unwanted guest. Too polite to cause trouble, but a nuisance just by his presence.
No comments:
Post a Comment