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Tank
I was around the back of the large tank, the one in the middle of the field. Long years of inactivity had scoured it of all identifying marks, and none of us knew which army it had belonged to, but it was still sound, all the moving parts lubricated and in good condition. I was slowly tracing the electrical leads from the batteries, trying to find out why it wouldn't start. All I knew about electronics had been learned from the Guildmaster, which, admittedly, wasn't very much; he was the only one who could read and still lived in the village. I knew which leads were which, by their colour; I knew that the electrical fluid had to flow from one lead through the machinery and then back into the other lead, unimpeded. It wasn't happening. The back flap of the tank shaded me from the afternoon sun, and as I tapped along an exposed cable with my dowsing stick, the occasional autumn leaf drifted down from the trees around me. The roan Percheron who lived in this field came over and sniffed at the tank. I gestured to the tangle of leads and, quietly, asked, "Well? What's wrong with it?" He snorted and, seeing that I had no food for him, plodded off. I sighed, tapped the leads with the dowsing stick, feeling for the tingle which said that the fluid had found its way this far along the cable, when there was an exclamation from the others over near the barn. I looked around the iron-grey end of the tank; they were pointing into the sky and seemed about ready to run for cover. I looked up, but couldn't see anything through the trees; the brilliance of the sky after having my head stuck in the innards of the tank for over an hour was also a factor. Then, i saw it; something moving behind the trees -something in the sky. My heart raced. Legs numb, my attention on the sky, I stumbled over to the barn and curtly instructed an undergraduate; "Go tell the Lord. I believe it to be an angel." When the lackwit simply goggled at me, I cuffed his ear and insisted, "Quickly!" He bowed and loped off towards the village. I moved out of the shadow of the barn, shaded my eyes and stared up as it moved out from behind the trees. It was hard to tell how high up, and thus how big it was, but it was shaped something like two flat bowls pressed rim-to-rim, bright silver metal, simply hanging there in the sky. For lack of any better idea, I raised my right hand and waved slowly. I took a few steps back when it began to float down to the ground, like a leaf, like the other leaves around me. As it got closer, I saw that it was no larger than the tank I'd been working on. It settled to the ground, crushing the longer stalks of grass beneath it. There was a teeth-jarring humming sound coming from it. The others had worked up the courage to come within a few steps of where I stood when the object slid open, like a pie with successively larger slices being taken out of it. It was hollow, and a man stepped out from inside. A young man, around my age, dressed in some strange light blue cloth, something dark covering his eyes. I stood frozen as he walked toward me; I was about to fall to my knees before him when he slid the dark coverings off, over his head, held out his hand and smiled at me. "My name's Tal Meta. I'm from Jersey." My jaw hung slack. He came closer, grabbed my hand and shook it. "Glad to meet you ... uh, what's your name?" "Arafel." I murmured. "Where did you say you are from?" He looked around, spotted the tank and approached it with interest. "Jersey. Stateside. Say, this is a nice piece of hardware ..." he slapped the side and moved around under the rear flap to examine my work. He proceeded to tell me of the One World Government, and how they'd assumed control after the War. He referred to a lot of pre-War things, countries, dominions, powers which I'd never heard of; I tried to interrupt him and say that he should really be speaking to our Lord, but he just continued, chatting amiably about the many feudal societies that he'd seen, and how this tank was very clean but there were several serious shorts, and so on... I stood as close as I dared and watched as he pulled the cables from where I'd arranged them, tracing them with a practiced hand; he then climbed up the worn ladder that lead to the inside, called out "Does this thing have fuel?" Fuel? "I think so -" "Good one, I'm gonna fire this sucker up. Stand back!' Ignoring him, I walked around to the side, where a large plate was missing. I could see inside, where he was sitting in the foremost of the seats, yanking levers in a knowledgeable fashion. The threw a couple of switches and I almost fell over backwards when the engine actually turned over. It was a sound I'd never heard before, much louder than I could ever have imagined. My eyes widened with amazement as he climbed out, slapped the side of the tank. "Fuel blockage somewhere. No problem, I can sort this out for you." I approached with the degree of deference due to a Master Mechanic, which he obviously was. "I - I don't think we are actually supposed to start it up. It is our place to maintain it, take care of it, but to never use it." He regarded me with a sour expression. "I can see there's a lot you have to learn." |
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