Time Salvager (Time Salvager #1)(69)

Elise and James stood side by side as the tribe broke down the foodstuffs within minutes. James was now inclined to agree with Elise that these supposed savages were anything but. If anything, through the necessity of stretching their meager resources to the limit, they were as efficient if not more so than any of the people in the civilized colonies.

Even the now-emptied sacks were cut down for blankets, clothing, and bandages. Meats were stripped from the bone and then the bones stockpiled for stew and weapons. Dried herbs were mashed into paste for seasoning and medicine. Nothing went to waste. Within an hour, the six pallets of foodstuffs were gone, then a small legion of children moved in to pick up any remaining grain that might have slipped through careless hands.

Elise put her arms around him and leaned on his shoulder. “You did good, big guy. Lots of people are going to have full bellies tonight.”

He grunted. “Would have done better if the merchant had a little whiskey with him.”

“Did they have whiskey back then?”

James shrugged. “Whiskey, mead, ale, wine? Who cares. I’ll drink anything right about now.”

One of the Elfreth must have overheard him, because a few minutes later, a young man walked up to them. He eyed James up and down as if about to start a fight, and then tossed him a dented tin flask. He banged his chest twice with his fist and pointed at his heart. “Chawr.”

James caught the flask and, with more than a bit of skepticism, uncorked it and took a sniff. Whatever was inside smelled like a dead animal soaked in tar, but it was definitely booze of some sort. James raised the flask to him. “Thank you, Chawr.” This was the first time anyone in the tribe had showed him a kindness.

The man stared at James very seriously and nodded. “For food. Fair even.”

James stared at the flask and shrugged. In his case, it probably wasn’t a bad trade. He was barely fighting off the shakes. He took a swig and nearly spit it out of his mouth. His knees buckled and he almost dropped to one knee.

Chawr howled with laughter. He slapped James on the shoulder and joined a group of his friends watching in the distance. They all looked over at him, whooping and joking as they walked away. James was pretty sure they were now just making fun of him.

“Don’t spill a drop,” Elise teased. “Wait, you’re turning red. Are you sure that’s what you think it is?”

“Definitely not,” James gasped, in between labored breaths. It was in fact alcohol, though he was sure it could probably run a diesel engine. He bent over, still gasping for breath, not sure if he should thank those young Elfreth or kick their asses. Finally, after several minutes, when he felt back in control of himself, he shrugged and took another swig. It still burned his throat like the abyss but he was ready for it this time.

“You’re unbelievable,” Elise said. “I can smell that crap from your breath. You stink like a fire-breathing dragon.”

“What’s a…”

“Never mind.”

For the rest of the day, the two sat in the middle of the bustling field inside the six towers as the Elfreth prepared a feast. It seemed they had also invited some of their neighbors, as a few other groups of natives James had not seen before came shortly before dinner. The two groups embraced and the festivities approached.

The anticipation for dinner was building. At that very moment, James felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A small wave of contentment washed over him as he stood in the center of this community, flask of wasteland liquor in hand. For a brief instant, he felt like he belonged. Sure, no one spoke with him, or even looked him in the eye, but he had brought them this gift, and for now, they accepted him. No, they tolerated him a little more. He still saw the distrust in their eyes and their wariness when he was around, but this boon of food, though a terrible and inefficient use of his power levels, time traveling, and health, went a long way for these people. Plus, it got him some liquor, which for him felt much needed. It had been days since he last had had a drop.

James’s eyes wandered over to Elise. Since she had come to the present, she had been mostly subdued, often crying in her sleep. Now, being here with these Elfreth, her old self was starting to peek through. It was rare to see her smile like that. It reminded him of the first time he met her on the Nutris Platform.

Their eyes met and he thought she blushed, though it could have been the reflection of the fire. That alone was worth retrieving supplies for these savages. Still, it was a high price. Elise had no idea what she had asked for in making that jump for something as inconsequential as foodstuffs.

Now, a nine-point-three-day or 1,632.2-kilometer radius of time and distance around where Salih died was a dead zone, the chronostream ripped and permanently no longer accessible for someone to jump into. The time and distance varied based on a planet’s rotation or whether the jump was in open space, but the impact was still the same.

In a singular case, it could be overlooked, but unregulated in mass quantities, it could devastate the chronostream. That was why the agency weighed the worth of every jump into the past. By now, they would also have been alerted of his illegal jump and sent auditors to investigate. It would be only a matter of time before they tracked him down.

James looked down at his shaking hands. Also, without a miasma regimen, which was carefully guarded by the auditors within ChronoCom, the lag sickness was slowly killing him. He inhaled and felt the sick oily sensation that now seemed permanently stuck in his throat. The twisting in his guts felt natural now, as if the spasms of pain wracking his body were simply a part of who he was. And with every subsequent jump, it would just get worse.