Distant trails under car.., p.1
Distant Trails: Under Carico's Moons: Book One, page 1
Contents
Distant Trails
Copyright © 2021 by Nan C Ballard
Dedication
Map of Carico
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
About the Author
Once Upon a Fang in the West
Tooth and Claw
Don’t Read This Book
GhostCityGirl
Djinn
Survivors’ Club
The Staff of Fire and Bone
Wrestling Demons
Daughter of Magic
Shadow Girl
Brief Black Candles
21st Century Coastal American Verses
When She Leaves Me
Someone to Watch Over
The Gospel According to St. Rage
Sparks
Going - Green
SuperGuy
The - Supernormal - Legacy: - Book 1 - Dormant
Corporate High School
The Digital Storm
The Sum of Our Gods
Strongly Worded Women: The Best of the Year of Publishing Women: - An Anthology
Shout: - An Anthology of Resistance Poetry and Short Fiction
Denial Kills: - An Anthology of Poetry and Short Fiction
Under Carico’s Moons
Book 1
Distant Trails
by
Nan C Ballard
Copyright © 202 by Nan C Ballard
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by
Not a Pipe Publishing
www.NotAPipePublishing.com
Hardcover Edition
ISBN-13: 978-1-956892-12-3
Cover art by Don Aguillo
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For Joyce, in memory of all the imaginary adventures we shared as kids.
I hope I’ve brought some fragments of them to life.
Chapter 1
Seth
Seth Reilly danced, his boots scuffling in amber-green sand, leading the young horse through the steps as it learned to focus and to follow, to read the language of Seth’s body, to partner with the man. The horse’s attention slid away, locking on someone standing outside the gate. Seth caught the colt’s eye, drew it back, a step this way, a step that, until the animal followed him, nose by his hip, in a winding curve across the pen. Seth stopped, stepped back, and turned away, disengaging.
“You about done for the day?” Kieron Dougherty asked. Crinkles from a ready smile and Carico's sun etched the man’s mahogany skin.
Seth glanced at Carico’s two moons, Lander and Damele, beginning their own dance in the eastern sky, pale in the light of the setting sun. It was almost dinnertime. “Finally getting somewhere with this one.”
“How’d it go earlier?”
“Fine, boss. Got ‘em all assigned.” Across the Seven Wells barnyard, a crew jostled and joked their way to the cookhouse. Seth shook his head. “Sometimes I hate turning the young horses over. Half those riders are sure they are great horse trainers, and I’ll have to correct their messes in a few months.”
“Job security.” Dougherty pulled a slip of paper out of his shirt pocket. “You’ve got a blip from your sister. I figured it must be important since it’s not a holiday or your birthday.”
“From Gwyn?”
Dougherty passed him the paper.
Seth read the message quickly, then reread it thoughtfully.
“Trouble?” his boss asked.
Seth shook his head. “No, but it sounds like they need me home to ride for the spring Migration this year.” He tried to make it sound routine.
“You haven’t been back in a while.”
“Five years,” he admitted. He folded the paper.
Dougherty frowned. “Will you go?”
Seth studied the piece of paper and slowly nodded. “Truth is I’ve been thinking it was time for a visit.” He shrugged. “Might as well be now. I’ll leave in a couple of days.”
“That’s all right with me.”
“Then I’ll have a job when I get back?”
“Anytime. Why don’t you leave your horses here and have someone come pick you up?”
“Thanks, boss, but I’d rather ride. I was seventeen when I left. Three weeks on the trail to Under Rim ought to be about enough to settle into the idea of going back.”
Dougherty chuckled. “Better go get your dinner before that crew cleans the pot.”
“Yes, sir,” Seth replied, then added, “Could you do me a favor?”
“What would that be?”
“Could I take a horse for part of my pay?”
The older man thought for a moment. “One of the two-year-olds?”
“Yes, the blaze-faced sorrel filly.”
“I expect we can work something out. Why the sorrel?”
“She’s my sister’s kind of horse. Besides, she’ll be the only sorrel on the place.” He grinned at that thought.
“Okay, she’s yours. I’ll put it on the books.”
“Thank you.” Seth settled his hat on honey-colored hair and walked across the wide yard between the various buildings and the corrals. One of the other riders sat on the steps of the bunkhouse, leaning back on her elbows. Her brush of dark red hair stood up, damp with sweat.
“Bad news?” she asked. Kiri Devlin was ten years or so his senior and tended to treat him like a baby brother, but they had become good friends in the two years he had ridden for Seven Wells.
“Want to hear it?” he asked. Without waiting, he went ahead and read the note out loud. “It says—
Twin, it’s your turn. I’ve taken care of things at home for five years while you’ve had your fun. Now I’ve got a chance to do something I want. Don’t blow it for me. I’m going to Portside in a month. Be here by then.”
“Your sister,” Kiri determined. “Any idea what it’s about?”
“None, but whatever it is, maybe it’s time I go back.”
“You have been thinking about it.”
“Yup. You want to come along?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. You don’t need some stray tagging along when you go home.”
“Migration time — plenty of work,” he offered.
“Need someone to hold your hand?” she teased.
“That must be it, Babysitter. I just couldn’t make such a long ride by myself.”
“Sorry, but you are on your own this time.” She ran her hand over her hair one more time and stood up. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
“Don’t say anything to the crew. I’ll tell them tomorrow.”
“When are you going?”
“In a couple of days. I need to bring in my personal horses and get supplies together.”
“We’ll miss you, Seth.”
“No, you’ll just miss my horse training.”
Chapter 2
Anni
“Under Rim? What would a Central like you be wanting in a far-out village like that?”
Anni Dulci pulled herself up to her full five feet two inches. “May I ride with you to Under Rim or not?” She knew her inner-world attire and carefully cultivated posture of inexperience didn’t fit the frontier village where she was headed.
“No offense meant.” The man shrugged. “Hop aboard. They’ll be done loading any minute. Where’re your bags?”
“Just these.” She handed him her carry bag, keeping her tote in hand. He shook his head and climbed into the driver’s seat of the well-used cargo jumper.
“Get comfortable. We’ll be together for a while. Under Rim is my last stop on today’s run. You can call me Al.” He went through his final checks while the crew finished loading the crates of supplies for the far-flung communities lying west of Portside. In a few minutes, they lifted smoothly from the pad on the edge of the port and sailed away from the rising sun.
Her pilot-guide proved talkative, apparently pleased to have company. “Nice world, Carico. Sixty years we’ve been here, and we’ve kept the footprint pretty small. See this river valley, these grasslands. There’s our wealth — plants for all sorts of medicines, and food, of course.”
“I thought Carico produced copper.”
“That’s out east of Portside. You want technology, go out to the mines. But they couldn’t survive without the botanicals.
“Under Rim’s not along the river, is it?”
& nbsp; “Not by a long shot. We’ll swing south over the desert, around the mountains to the west, and then back north under the Rim where you’re headed.”
“I’ve heard most of the communities are pretty rustic.”
“You won’t find a lot of fancy techno gadgets away from the mines, just what we need to get by, but we like it that way.”
“What do you mean?” she encouraged him to elaborate.
“Jumpers and skimmers for transport, micro power generation, the credit net — we use those, but mostly we do things ourselves and don’t get in a hurry about it. Satellite real-time is limited and costs. We mostly use compressed blips that can be delivered when there’s bandwidth free.”
“You must have communications and navigation satellites.”
“Comm sat covers Portside and the mines. We’re ground-based over here. No point buying up a lot of pricey gadgets from out there somewhere that we can’t rebuild or repair ourselves.
Anni tried to hide her dismay at such a lack of basic services. “How big is Under Rim?”
“Not more than a hundred people live in the village with another two or three hundred or so in the district. They’re stock raisers up there so the homesteads — they call them steads — they’re pretty spread out. They have a local market with an order store, a small education center and library, and the usual public safety support.”
“Any place a girl might get a job?”
“Could be. The café has live waiters, and there are two or three steads with broad enough interests to keep offices. Then there’s Central Services of course, but you need some skills with them. Once in a while the Steaders’ Co-op hires someone. About the only regular openings are for riders to work livestock.” She recognized his unspoken skepticism about her qualifications for that work.
He spoke truly about it being a long day. They stopped at a dozen different villages and steads, leaving behind various goods at each. One stead called Seven Wells was almost like a town in itself with its cluster of cabins, its own store, and other buildings. From there they followed an arc of hills west and north, crossed a large river, stopping at a community on its banks, then hopped from one small stead to another. She heard about the histories, the major products, how many settlers had survived the pandemic forty years earlier.
“It was worst in the outlying districts where medical care was scarce in those days,” he explained. “Some places lost nearly every adult between thirty and fifty. You’ll not find many elders in Under Rim.”
Late in the afternoon, Al swung around a green spot in the sparse scrub of the desert hills. “See those. Those are tarbh, the local livestock.” Anni looked down at the animals scattered across the little meadow around the spring. They had chunky, very wide, horse-size bodies and broad heads with horns lying flat on the skull like a helmet then curling down and forward. Four dark eyes, two forward and two to the sides, lay under the edge of the horns. Their hides were mottled greenish-brown and gray with short, wide, feather-like scales.
“They look like they're wearing shawls,” she said with surprise. Something lay over the top of the necks, extending back onto their shoulders.
“Just wait until you see one with that frill standing straight up, flushed bright blue. Quite a sight! It’s not all display though. They use it to control body temperature. On a hot day, they’ll all be hiding under waving blue fans.”
The scrub got thicker and turned to mixed trees and shrubs. Then grassy understory and meadows appeared. Her guide pointed out the great fault scarp that cut east to west across the region. “That’s the Rim,” he said. “It runs a couple hundred miles. Marks the north edge of the settled country.”
“No one lives above there?”
“Not yet,” he replied. “Haven’t needed the territory. Let us get recovered from the pandemic, and someone will start pushing that way. Good country I hear but cold in the winter.”
They finally circled Under Rim. Broad, paved walkways led out from each point of the triangular central plaza. Buildings lined the walkways with vehicle parking in back. The pavement turned to dirt trails at the edge of town. Al set down behind the store.
“Get pretty much anything you want here,” he told her. “’Course, you have to order anything not produced locally. That’s what keeps me in business.” He shut down the jumper. “I like you, Anni. I’m going to give you some advice. Be best if you got a new haircut and hung those glow-clothes in the closet. Blend in a little; help you get by out here. Now come along and meet the storekeeper. She manages the apartments; probably has an opening this time of year. Unless you have family meeting you?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. Family coming in I usually hear about. Now, you take care, and if you need help with anything, see the Marshal. He’s a good man.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a grateful smile.
Another hour found her settled into a tiny, one-room apartment in a long, low building across the plaza from the store. She was without a haircut or new wardrobe. Her dozen articles of clothing filled two needs, maximum mix-and-match and minimum packing space. All fit the description of “glow-clothes” with bright colors and fringe or ruffles that caught the light. She had let the storekeeper talk her into a long overcoat they called a duster to help her survive the late winter weather, something she had failed to consider when leaving Portside. Any other shopping would have to wait for a job. The rent left her barely enough to eat for the next few days.
She stared at the blank walls. What had she gotten herself into? The town was hardly larger than some of the steads they had stopped at and, while it had the essential medical, safety, and education services, seemed devoid of simple conveniences like public transportation and real-time communication beyond its boundaries. She had thought she was prepared for this, but now she wondered. She had never been so alone in her life.
Chapter 3
Seth
Twenty days of cold spring weather and some four hundred miles from Seven Wells, Seth stopped his horse at the edge of the village of Under Rim. “Well, old boy, we made it,” he said, rubbing the dusty bay neck. He urged his weary gelding forward and tugged gently on the lead rope to encourage his pack horse and the two-year-old filly to come along. He rode up the broad promenade between the education and medical centers on the left and communications and public safety on the right. The blocky buildings lay quiet in the early spring twilight.
The promenade, restricted to non-motorized traffic, opened into a central plaza. The Gathering Hall, where the community came together for celebrations or district meetings, lay dark and empty to the left. Nothing had changed. He turned right, past the Marshal’s Office, to the livery stable where he dismounted. The old wrangler that he expected didn’t come out to greet him. With a shrug, he stepped up to the kiosk and laid his thumb on the pad by the door to activate the registration system. He keyed in for a corral and storage for his packs and saddles and led his animals into the wide aisle of the barn. Cabinets lined both sides for several feet with an open area in between for loading and unloading. Further back were box stalls. The far end opened outside into an alleyway between long lines of corrals. As Seth entered, the lights came up and the slot on his assigned locker blinked at him.
With sure hands, he pulled his packs off the horse and stowed them in the locker. Next, he unsaddled the two geldings and brushed them off. He took a minute to run the brush over the filly too before leading all three out through the far end of the barn and turning them into an empty corral. He carried hay out to them and checked the water to be sure it was fresh. Satisfied, he closed up the locker and left the barn.
He strolled across the plaza in no great hurry. Rajir’s Café sat on the right at the beginning of the western walkway, just beyond the tall hedge hiding the parking that lined the third side of the plaza triangle. Dim light spilled from the café windows, the one place in the village showing signs of life. Food and warmth drew him, but he paused on the threshold, thinking about who he might run into. He shook the dust from his wide-brimmed hat and settled it low over his face. Opening the door, he stepped inside.
Light pooled around the tables, overlapping to wash the room in a golden glow. He rapidly ran his eyes over the occupants, finding several familiar faces in a group at the long wooden table off to the right. Three men and four women, pillars of the community, relaxed over after-dinner drinks, a clutter of napkins and dessert dishes still scattered before them. Silently, Seth found a seat left of the door where he could watch the big man at the head of the long table without attracting attention.
