A Change in Plans
Copyright© 2006 by Asa Strong
Chapter 4: Coming to Grips
Science Fantasy Story: Chapter 4: Coming to Grips - George Rice, a dying, emotionally detached scientist who plans to stage his own accidental death after losing his wife and receiving a terminal cancer diagnosis. At the brink of suicide, he is intercepted by a higher being named Alama, who offers him a chance to “right a terrible wrong.” George accepts and dies—only to be reborn into another world and another body.
Caution: This Science Fantasy Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Consensual Romantic Science Fiction Isekai First
I sat there, my mind a whorl of thoughts. Fragments of my life, or maybe I should say both of my lives, collided with my conscious mind. The longer I sat, the more chaotic the assault upon my mind became. Those were my last thoughts as I crumpled from the onslaught. All became black as I entered a distraught sleep.
“Donta, Donta wake up, please wake up,” someone whispered in my ear.
My eyes tried to focus, but the pain in my head held precedence. I felt like someone had pounded the back of my head with a hammer.
“Donta, hurry, please hurry!” The words somehow reached my conscious thought, and my eyes began to focus.
As I shook my head, my vision began to clear, and I could see Kata, with her arm around my neck. Tears streaked through the dust on her face, and fear was plainly visible in her eyes.
“Kata, what is wrong?” I managed to croak.
“Don’t tell the soldiers. They are back. They are looking through the house and barn. We have to leave, and Mama is so sick. What are we going to do?”
Very slowly, I stood up. My head still felt the rhythm of throbbing pain. I pushed the pain out of my head; slowly, my mind cleared to a point where I could begin to think rationally.
I could hear loud voices coming from the area of the burned-out buildings.
As I started towards the voices, I whispered, “Kata, try and keep your mother and Celle quiet. I need to find out what is happening. I will return soon. Just keep everything quiet here.”
I crept quietly to the edge of the woods and hid behind a large uprooted tree.
The voices were louder now, and I could make out what was being said.
“Make sure there is no one left alive,” said a large man wearing what appeared to be heavy leather armor and a metal helmet. “Check the buildings for anything of value and make it quick. We don’t have much time.”
Four of the dozen or so men departed from the group and started searching the burned-out hulks of the buildings.
After ten or so minutes, the men started to return. One said, “I would have sworn that there was a woman with blonde hair at the door when we first attacked, but she is not inside.”
One of the mounted men then said, “Roffe, you are always seeing women; it was probably a leftover dream from all of the draft you drank last night.”
The apparent leader then spoke, “Enough! We don’t have time. Have the rest of you found anything worthwhile?”
“Well, the wagons are in pretty good shape and with a little work would be usable,” said one man.
Another stated, “I looked all through the house, and other than a few bits of silver in a drawer, there was nothing of value. Just like all these farmers, they don’t have much of any real value.”
The big man said, “Let’s get going then. Korga’s band is not that far behind us, and we don’t need to get into a fight over something of no value. Mount up, and let’s get out of here.”
The men mounted up and rode east at a leisurely pace.
I lay there watching the men ride off. Suddenly, another group of men came galloping over the hill from the south. The original group noticed them and spurred their horses into a gallop, obviously trying to evade them.
The men to the south altered their direction to intercept those that had been at the farm. Quickly, both groups vanished from view.
I returned to the small clearing and found all three women huddled together. Concern and fear were visible on their faces.
“They have gone—at least for now, anyway.”
Their faces visibly relaxed, and the fear drained from their eyes. Rocha seemed to be more or less awake, so I asked her, “Rocha, how does your shoulder feel?”
“It hurts, and I am so weak. I’m scared; what are we going to do?”
What do I say? Hell, I’m scared too. I’ve got two sets of memories running around in my head.
Calming myself, I said, “Rocha, we have to move from here soon. I know it is going to be hard on you, but we don’t know when those men, or someone like them, will return.”
Fear was apparent on her face when she said, “Donta, we will do what you say. My husband and sons have been killed. We have nowhere to go. Please help us.”
“Damn, what do I do?” I said to myself. “I need to get my act together and get my mind organized so I can think straight.”
I took a deep breath in an attempt to try to clear my mind, but only marginally doing so, and said, “OK, listen; we need to get organized in some manner. We don’t have any food; we can’t stay here, and it is too dangerous anyway.”
“Celle, I didn’t see any of the farm animals with the men that attacked you. Can you check and see where they are? Please be careful, though.”
“Yes, Donta, I will go. I think the master had the horses in the lower pasture.”
Turning to Kata, “Go through the house and see if there is any food and clothing we can use. I will check to see if any of the wagons are usable.”
With that, we all moved out.
I first went to the large outbuilding that held the wagons. The first wagon was a total loss. The fire had burned away the entire rear half. Across the room was a portion of the building that the fire had not reached. On that side of the building was a small farm wagon that looked like it was functional.
As I got closer, some burn scars were visible on the wagon, but did not look like they were serious enough to keep the wagon from being usable.
The more I wandered through the burned-out building, it became apparent why the fire had not destroyed the whole structure. The fire must have started in the front of the building, but when it reached the middle portion, where the equipment was located, there were six or seven rows of stacked, bundled hay and straw. Their density, because they were bundled tight, must have choked off the oxygen when the fire reached this portion of the building.
Upon the back wall of the building, I found the tack used to hook horses to the good wagon. Somehow, the Donta person inside me knew what was needed. After a careful inspection, the tack appeared not to have been damaged.
I removed the items I needed and placed them in the wagon bed, and then I went to check out the small building behind me.
This building had not been torched, so I decided to see what it contained.
I entered the building, and it became obvious that it was a smithy with a forge, hammers, tongs, and other tools. If I could remove all of this to somewhere safe, it would be a real godsend.
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