It should have been a simple case of going in and out but like all things concerning me things had gotten complicated.
Due to days getting shorter and all the piss farting around we did all that we had time for yesterday was to sell the lumber before everyone turned in for the night.
It being winter, and manufacturing being a few thousand years away, there was not much available for us to buy. At least that was what Neeti had told me.
Even if the village had been prepared for us there was limited stock in the store shed and the merchant caravans were months from thinking about coming here.
As I am not confident travelling on the roads at night and the guy in charge of the metal had gone home, we were forced to stay the night.
I gave Neeti a choice, the inn or the car. Being stuck in a car for hours she naturally chose the inn venture, I on the other hand, did not trust the people here. And while not comfortable, the car was warmer and safer than the inn.
I still don’t know what my or Neeti’s relationship is.
She seemed happy to get away from me. Maybe it was just sex or she and I needed the release, I don’t know what is going through that mind of hers.
As the sun set, I got Hardy to watch the car and repair the damage to the trailer. I ended up keeping a couple of pieces of lumber, and using the droid’s scanners we were able to find some scrap metal lying around the fort. Broken tools, weapons, arrow heads, and so on.
Hardy hooked up a plasma cutter to the car’s battery and it did a fine job melting the metal and pouring it into clay moulds he made earlier on the road.
Like I said, it’s best to keep the droids active. It isn’t good to have them on all the time but they are a bitch to wake up when they get into sleep mode.
I didn’t go straight into the car and read a few graphic novels. Days might be shorter here but I run a different clock.
I rented one of the guards with some tim tams and he took me over to the local healer. It pays to be a corporate lackey, my car has its own minibar.
The healer’s hut was pretty small. I mean I have seen tool sheds bigger. These people don’t respect doctors or anyone with an ounce of sense. I swear they think mud and spit can cure decapitation.
To my surprise, a Satyr male came to the door and at first I thought he was like some wise old medicine man who meditated on mountains and spoke to spirits.
Then I discovered that was just a grizzled old bastard that smelled like he hadn’t touched a drop of water in years.
It turned out that his wife was the village healer and he was just a hunter.
I told him I would like to see his wife about her services. He asked to see my coin and then shouted for his wife the moment he heard the small copper coins in my pockets.
I could describe Kinca in so many delightful words. Here is a few of them.
She is an old, fat, toothy, whore. Kinca was so fat I think that her home was built around her. I could go on with the yo mama jokes but we would be here all day.
My first thought seeing her, remarkably enough was not her weight, it was her teeth. Gingivitis so bad that I think any dentist of my world would have had a stroke. There were monster movies that could be dedicated to that mouth. I imagined flies buzzing around her lips.
The farm animals here were far healthier and far prettier than this bitch.
Her husband took one of my small copper coins that passed for currency here and he stood outside.
At the time I did not know why he wanted to stay outside. I expected that he would rather freeze his balls off then listen to medical jargon.
Oh, how wrong I was.
Kinca issued me in, gave me a toothy smile, and then raised her skirt to show me what she had under it.
Trust me. What I saw could stay under there.
After swallowing my sick back down I steeled myself and told Kinca that I was the new healer of Neeti’s village, and that I came here to consult her on some issues.
She lowered her dress and issued her husband in.
It turned out Kinca was the city healer, but as business was a bit tough she also moonlighted to put bread on the table. She had thought I had come in to enlist her services.
If I ever get that desperate for company I expect the person who finds this journal will also find my corpse swinging from the rafters. Neeti is fine, Kinca is not.
Now that I thrown up, let’s continue.
After the horrible, nauseating misunderstanding that will haunt my dreams for weeks, we got down to business.
With an abundant amount of time on my hands I had made a scrap book which contained photos I had taken off my predecessor’s stock, along with some equipment I was unsure of.
Kinca seemed far more interested in the book and the lined pages I had used than the actual content of the pitures.. Books are a rarity here and mostly used for religious texts.
She was also astonished about the quality of my art, which came no surprise to me as these people had not invented the camera. I suspect that she saw my photos as incredibly realistic drawings.
It turned out that my predecessor was a good old fashioned hippie. Half of her stock was narcotics, while the rest of her stash is used for brewing tea. There was very little left over for for salves and morning sickness. She even had a home-made bong.
I should point out that those salves they were used for rashes. Yes, those kinds of rashes. Eww. Eww. Fucking Eww.
Me and Kinca exchanged some pleasantries and the usual questions, such as where did I come from and why I was working as the new healer.
She asked my qualifications and I told her a bunch of stuff she wouldn’t know but it was the truth.
After that she saw me as an ant.
I think I found myself on the wrong end of a rock-scissors-paper war here. Priests, medicine women, and doctors all hate each other here. Well, they use to hate each other back home too.
Doctor’s don’t like competition and dumbass faith healers, priests don’t like women or thinking, and witch doctors and midwives don’t enjoy be burned at the stake or being discredited.
I didn’t mind. I predicted I would meet resistance here.
I told Kinca that I was interested in learning all of the natural remedies, and while I told her that 8 out of 10 times I wouldn’t believe her, I did promise Kinca that I would keep an open mind.
I also gave her the rest of my tim tams as a peace offering.
She told me for a doctor and a human, I only had my head shoved half-way up my own as arse compared to the rest of my kind. It had to be the best compliment anyone has given me since I got here.
The morning was a trail.
Hardy made a nice replica of a Dorothea California bed. But you know, minus the mattress.
He had used some cow hide and treated it. I don’t know where he got the leather, and if a skinned cow turns up I am pleading amnesia.
Fortunately, I wasn’t awake when he was gathering the leather. By the time I woke up the droid was finishing up the headboard. The smell was fucking horrible.
Hardy had managed to make some varnish. It wasn’t high grade stuff but it could stand up to supermarket brands. I am telling you, you would be amazed what you can make with some powerful alcohol, some plant extract, and some home-made soap.
A few passes with the power drill and it was all set up. Hardy and I were putting the first coat of varnish on when the merchant from yesterday showed up.
I found out that the merchant runs the general store and that he is related to Lord Snob. The pair of them make up the two richest blokes in the area.
Before we had a chance to finish the bed, Lord Snob bought it from us. Considering we made the bed out of some metal we found and some lumber, I think we made a good deal.
I then sold the varnish to the merchant. The carpenters here were going to be busy that’s for sure.
Once Neeti managed to wake up and get over here, we got into real business. Hardy loaded up the trailer full of various metals.
Neeti bought some fabric, as well as some salt and spices, which the village had ordered through us.
I got some maps of the local area and some things that confused the satyr such as loads of clay, rocks, and some dirt that I noticed that was under the snow.
That’s right bitches, bauxite and limestone.
Neeti was not happy with my purchase, but as I traded the bed for this score, fuck her. The trailer was empty anyway and the clothes can be put in the car boot. I also bought supplies for making a shit load of glass.
It is now night, and Hardy is exchanging one of the wheels that broke due to the poor road conditions.
If this trading thing becomes a habit, I will have to see about upgrading the trailer.