D. MacHale - The Pilgrims of Rayne

I was taken from the hut where Telleo had been caring for me and pulled roughly across flat sand. I didn’t resist. There were three of them and one of me. Worse, I was operating at about 20 percent. I went along quietly while trying to take in my surroundings.

I wanted to learn as much about Ibara as I could. It wasn’t easy. The three guys who arrested me weren’t exactly acting like tour guides. I had to see what I could while being dragged through town.

Yes, town. Maybe it would be more accurate to call it a tropical village. There were no tall buildings, only wooden huts with grass roofs, like the one I’d been recovering in. There were hundreds of them in all sizes, lined up in orderly rows that created streets of sand. The huts were set back from these sandy pathways with lots of space yards, the huts were surrounded by green leafy plants that were dotted with an amazing array of colorful flowers-bright reds, deep blues, brilliant oranges, and many more, all gleaming in the tropical sun. It looked as if each hut were resting in its own colorful nest. It smelled like a flower shop, but not in an overpowering, sweet way. The air just smelled fresh.

There were no vehicles. Everyone was on foot. Some people hung out in front of the huts, reading. Others carried baskets of food or large containers filled with I-don’t-know-what. I saw people working to repair huts and weaving fresh grass into the roofs. Others were building new huts. Everyone wore variations of the simple clothing I had found at the flume. Many of the men didn’t wear shirts or shoes. Some women wore short dresses. All the clothing was colorful and light. There were lots of kids, too, running around acting like, well, like kids.

The village was built on the shore of a calm, green ocean. A wide beach of powder-white sand separated the huts from the water. I only got a quick glance but saw several boats of all sizes floating just offshore. Some looked like small fishing boats, others were under sail. There were people fishing on shore, too, using long poles. The circular beach curved around, forming a huge bay, the entrance to which looked about a few hundred yards wide. The water inside was as calm as a lake. Beyond the entrance to the bay were the white lines of waves. That meant open sea. Huts were built all along the curve of the beach. It wasn’t crowded, though. There was plenty of greenery, with trees and bushes and flowers. Tall palm trees provided much-needed shade from the killer-hot sun.

The village was built in what seemed like a pretty sweet spot. On one side was the vast, protected bay. On the other, looming high over the village, was a majestic green mountain that rose to a sharp peak. High above on the mountain’s face I saw multiple waterfalls cutting the lush surface. At its base were more huts built onto its gently rising slope. Sounding like paradise yet?

It wasn’t a small village. It was more like a tropical city that was completely protected by water on one side and a spectacular mountain on the other. It seemed like a perfect fishing village. Still, there were enough odd touches that made it seem a little off. I couldn’t get a feel for how advanced this civilization was. Were these simple fishermen who spent their lives picking fruit and catching what they needed from the sea? Or was there more? There had to be, based on the technology I was seeing. Besides the telephone that Telleo used and the lights in the hut, there were lights in the trees of the village. That meant they had power. I also saw that some people were tending the flowers around their huts by spraying water from hoses. That meant they had plumbing. I already told you that I saw people reading books, which meant they had the ability to print.

There were other signs that didn’t jump out at first, but the more I thought about them, the less sense they made. The people weren’t of any particular race. I saw every skin and hair color you could imagine. They had a wide mix of facial features too. This definitely wasn’t a single race of people. I’m no anthropologist, but you’d think if this were a secluded village built by a single tribe, everybody would have the same general look. They didn’t. These people definitely came from different parts of Ibara. I actually started to think that maybe the idea of this being a resort might not be so far-fetched. It fit all the criteria: beautiful setting, awesome beach, a mix of different people, boats, fishing, killer weather, and all the comforts of home. The only thing missing was a boat pulling some water skiers and some guy playing a steel drum. There was only one problem with this theory.

At resorts people didn’t get abducted and falsely arrested. That would seriously ruin a vacation.

Most of what I described here I saw in the few minutes I was being dragged through the village. I tried to take it all in, while the people we passed were looking back at me with just as much interest. And why not? It must have been a sight to see three men dragging a dazed, scab-encrusted guy through the streets. A few bystanders applauded and yelled encouragement to my abductors.

“Nice work!” “Thank you!” “Wonderful!”

What was up with that? What had I done? Was it a crime to get munched by a swarm of bees?

“Where are we going?” I asked as we moved quickly through the sandy streets.

“You’ll be brought before the tribunal,” the big guy answered gruffly. “They’ll decide what to do with you.”

Tribunal. That sounded official. I figured I had better start forming a plausible story as to who I was and why I was there. It seemed like the best thing that could happen to me was to be sent away. At least that’s what Telleo said. I didn’t want to think about what the worst thing might be.

“Help! Thief!” came a woman’s cry.

Instantly two young guys ran out from a cross street in front of us. They each carried cloth sacks and were running away like, well, like thieves. They looked to be a little younger than I was. One had long dark curly hair and dark skin, the other’s hair was long and blond. Neither wore shirts or sandals. Both were laughing as if they had just gotten away with the crime of the century. They turned in our direction, saw us, stopped short… and stopped laughing.

“Uh-oh,” the blond guy gasped.

They took off running in the other direction. My captors stood frozen, not sure what to do.

“Maybe you should go after some real criminals/’ I suggested.

“Go!” The big guy barked at the others. “I can handle him.”

The other two bolted after the thieves. It was now one-on-one. Me against the big guy. I’m embarrassed to say that he was right. He was definitely able to handle me. He slipped a thin cord around my wrist and pulled it tight. He grabbed my other arm, pulled it behind my back and looped the other end of the cord around it, handcuffing me. He knew what he was doing. He pushed me forward and I stumbled on. We passed the street that the two thieves had run down in time to see the two other security guys tackle the thief with the dark hair. He was done. His blond friend got away though. Seeing this scene made me wonder if this idyllic tropical town was not so idyllic after all. It seemed to have a real crime problem.

“What exactly did I do wrong?” I asked the big guy.

“You’re an outsider,” he snapped, all business. “Outsiders are taken before the tribunal.”

Not good. There was no way I could convince anybody I wasn’t an outsider, so if being an outsider was bad, I was in trouble. At least that meant I didn’t have to pretend I knew anything about their town.

“What exactly is the tribunal?” I asked.

“It is the government of Rayne,” he answered.

“So this town is called Rayne?”

The guy didn’t answer.