LOGAN (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 5) (5 page)

"You're right," Tarla said with a grimace. "There are some things worse than death. Like being forced to spend time with men like Private Higgs or Wilkes. Can you just imagine what might happen if we were all stuck in here together for very long?"

"Yeah. World War Four. Except this time we don't even have the limited privacy of a latrine."

Tarla made another face at her friend. "I've been trying not to think about that. Or about food. Or water."

"You're not the only one, believe me. But something the darling major said stuck in my head."

Tarla smirked. "I think the darling major is just plain stuck in your head."

"True," Robin admitted with a wink. "I thought he was luscious the first time I saw him but when I heard that English accent, I almost wet my pants."

"How can you think about a man at a time like this?" Tarla knew her question was rhetorical. There was always room for thoughts of handsome men in Robin's mind.

Robin cocked her head as if giving Tarla's question real consideration. "It's hard but some things are worth the extra effort." She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows, then straightened her expression again. "Anyway, what I was going to bring up before you sidetracked me was what the major said about the animals. They look healthy. Somebody must be in charge of giving them food and water and letting them out. So I'm willing to bet that whoever, or whatever, put us in here, will take care of us too. It's just a matter of being patient until they show themselves."

Tarla nodded. "It sounds logical but I'm worried about how far some of these men's patience can be stretched." Her gaze sought out Wilkes to see what he was up to, but before she located him or any of his friends, all six of her nurses joined her and Robin. Their worried expressions mirrored her own.

Darcy, a young woman with blonde-on-blonde frosted hair and a courageous air that made her seem larger than her petite body, spoke first. "No one has been able to find a way out."

Kara, Darcy's closest friend, stood silently behind her, as usual, staring at the ground. She was as timid as her friend was brave. Kara was a good nurse though and that was what mattered to Tarla.

Sunny, a brunette whose nickname perfectly suited her bright personality, rather than her drab appearance, offered her information next. "There doesn't even seem to be a loose board anywhere that could be pried away to make an opening. It might be possible with a tool, but no one's found anything usable."

The "Three Mouseketeers", Trish, Mandy and Charlene, had nothing to add but Mandy gave voice to the words they were all thinking. "I'm scared, Captain. More scared than the time the sniper was taking potshots at us."

"At least then we knew where we were and who the enemy was," Trish said.

Just then the group was expanded as two more women walked up and saluted Tarla. She automatically returned the salute and waited for them to identify themselves. They obviously knew who she was, or at least they knew of her superior rank.

"Airman First Class, Alicia Samples, helicopter pilot," said the taller of the two. With her statuesque form and long blonde hair, she looked more like a model than a pilot.

"I thought you ought to know, someone just found a supply of tents, cots, and bedding in the tack room. Looks like someone's expecting us to make ourselves at home."

The other woman had distinctly oriental features. "I'm Lee Tang," she said. "Ninth Infantry. We hope you don't mind our joining you, but in case you haven't noticed, there are ten of us and over a hundred of them."

Tarla looked at her curiously for a moment before realizing that she was referring to the male-female ratio. It was a fact of life in the field, something each woman dealt with in her own way. She had told Robin she was concerned about physical needs such as food, water and latrines. She hadn't given a thought to the kind of physical needs that might drive a man like Wilkes.

Suddenly she was filled with that new concern but she knew better than to let the other women see it. After all, she was a captain, the second in command. They were expecting her to take care of them and, as always, she would do everything in her power to do that. She introduced herself, Robin and her nurses, suggesting they all use first names under the circumstances.

"There's no reason to worry about something that's not an immediate problem," Tarla stated firmly. "I agree that we should be aware of the situation, especially considering the fact that twenty-nine of them are convicted felons. However, I'm sure the rest of the men can be counted on to behave in a civilized fashion. Besides, we'll probably find out what's going on here any minute and—"

A creaking noise coming from one end of the barn caught everyone's attention. Very slowly, a large section of the wall opened at the bottom and rose upward like a giant door.

With each inch the door opened, sunlight filled more of the barn. Tarla was torn between racing for the opening and being afraid to find out what was beyond the barn. For several seconds, it looked as though the fear of the unknown was keeping everyone else from moving as well.

"Captain Yan, I believe our place should be on the front line."

Tarla turned to see Major Cookson and Logan waiting on her. To the women she said, "Stay back until we see what we're facing." She then posted herself on the major's left as they strode toward the opening. With each step, others fell in behind them until Tarla felt a bit like the Pied Piper. Cookson halted them at the edge of the barn and waited for the rising door to complete its journey.

Tarla's heart pounded in her chest as she prepared for the worst and hoped for the best. When the outside world finally came into view, it was not clearly one or the other. The warm air temperature suggested it was summer. The brightness seemed to make it midday. Although her first thought had been that they might have been rescued by a transport to Innerworld, her thought as the barn door began to open was that they were on a farm somewhere in Middle America. Now she knew neither was the correct answer.

Outside of the barn, the ground cover and tree leaves were deep shades of blue, the cloudless sky was celery green and there was a second, smaller orb of light to the left of the sun.

And the large gathering of oriental men waiting for them to exit was evidence that they were not the only humans in this place... wherever in the universe
this place
was.

Chapter 4

Tarla, Logan and Geoffrey walked cautiously out into the yard. Scanning the group of men a second time, she noted some were not oriental, but they all bore the same expression of wonder. Within seconds, the rest of the soldiers and nurses filed into the yard. Their verbal reactions ranged from the spiritual to the obscene. As the two groups stared at one another, it was impossible to tell which looked more surprised.

"Hello," Geoffrey said to break the stalemate.

The group of men smiled slightly, bobbed their heads and replied with greetings in a variety of languages.

"Does anyone speak English?" Geoffrey asked.

A very old, bald-headed man limped forward, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. He offered a toothless grin. "I do. And a few others. Don't use it much though. Mostly learned to get our ideas across without words." His speech was slow and subdued, and his gaze wandered as if he were distracted.

"Please, sir," Tarla said, "could you tell us where we are?"

His eyes focused on hers, then widened with gradual awareness. "A woman?" He squinted at the crowd behind her. "Never had women before. Never had so many newcomers arrive at once either. Not quite sure what to do about that." He frowned a little as he seemed to struggle with his thoughts for a moment, then his toothless smile was back in place. "But they will. They always take care of any little problems. Must get back to work now." He turned and motioned for his people to get moving.

"Wait!" Tarla cried and the old man stopped and looked back. It occurred to her that he could be senile but what about the rest of them? Standing there with passive smiles and vacant gazes, they reminded her of well-fed sheep—contented, slow-moving and almost mindless.

"Oh, yes," the old man said as he hobbled around again. "You asked me a question, didn't you?"

Tarla could tell he had no recollection of what she'd asked. "Where are we? How did we get here?"

"Wish I could tell you, my dear, but can't. Got here about ninety years ago myself, far as I can figure. People here then didn't know where they were either."

"What's the deal, Major?" A soldier shouted, then several others added their own questions.

"What kind of place has green sky?"

"How'd we get here?"

"How do we get back home?"

Logan turned around and, with no more than the slash of his narrow-eyed glare across the nervous crowd, silenced the voices.

Tarla didn't see Geoffrey acknowledge Logan's assistance, but she clearly sensed that he did.

"As you can hear," Geoffrey said to the old man, "we would appreciate any information you can offer. I am Major Geoffrey Cookson of the United States Army. We were all on an aircraft heading to the United States from Japan, when a storm—"

"Yes, yes," the old man interrupted. "A storm. Always a storm. Thunder and lightning, then the bright light, then waking up in the barn. Sometimes a plane. Sometimes a boat. But always a storm... and the second sun."

"The second sun isn't always there?" Geoffrey asked.

The old man shrugged. "Now you see it, now you don't. Sometimes when you see it, there's a newcomer waiting in the barn. Was on a fishing boat off Guam myself. The rest are gone now." Again he appeared to mentally drift away, then return. "I am Duncan, the eldest of this lost tribe." He waved a frail hand toward the men behind him. "You'll have the rest of your lives to meet everyone else. Must go to work now." He started to move away once more.

Tarla's worried gaze darted to Geoffrey but Logan spoke up. "You said
they
take care of problems. Who are
they
?"

Duncan shook his head. "Don't know that either. Just know they're out there, past the invisible wall, and they take care of problems." He crooked his finger for Tarla to come closer. When she did, he whispered, "I think they're fairies."

The more Tarla was hearing, the less she understood.

"This is getting nowhere fast," Logan muttered to Geoffrey. "And the animals at your back are starting to show their teeth."

Tarla worried that decision-making was not one of the major's strong points. His decision to keep a man like McKay at his side was her first clue. She offered a suggestion when Duncan tried to leave again.

"Duncan, you said you have to get back to work. Perhaps we could help. There are an awful lot of us. If we broke up into groups, and you assigned an English-speaking person to each group, we could be shown what it is you do here and give you a hand."

Duncan smiled broadly. "That's a fine idea, young lady. Lots of strong backs. Must work to eat. Must eat to work." He called five men forward and repeated Tarla's suggestion.

"I'll take the women and go with Duncan," Tarla stated. "We nurses are known for our endless patience." Her remark won a smile from the major but Logan had an objection.

"You'll take ten men with you too," he said while his eyes scanned the crowd for candidates.

Tarla automatically bristled at his authoritative tone. He had no right to give her orders. "That won't be necessary."

Logan's gaze slid to hers and held. "I say it is."

Tarla lifted her chin, crossed her arms and pretended she wasn't a full head shorter than him. "Listen up, McKay. That evil-eye of yours may work on the men but it doesn't intimidate me one bit."

Geoffrey cleared his throat before Logan could counter. "I believe the sergeant made a valid suggestion, Captain. If what Duncan said is true, and these men haven't seen women for years, there's no telling what difficulties you might encounter. My recommendation would be to select ten of your patients. They would be most apt to be protective of you."

Tarla still didn't believe the women needed men with them, but at least the major explained his reasoning rather than just giving an order, and unlike McKay, he
was
a superior officer. Besides, Willy and some of the other patients would probably prefer to be with the nurses. "Yes sir. I'll select ten to take with us."