Strange Noises Fiction by Rachel Greenham

Ateis breaks off to run towards the lone figure standing watching the sea before I even recognise it as Lotan. "Ateis, wait!" I call after her, but I'm ignored. I try not to worry. Children here are for the most part left to run free and explore by themselves or with each other. I remember a place where children are taught never to speak to strangers and kept in to get fat watching television and playing on a Playstation because their parents are scared to let them go outside on their own. The habits and fears of that place aren't so easily set aside.

Collection of my standalone short stories. (Although when there'll be more than one in here is anyone's guess. :-) )

“Thank you for coming in at such short notice, Jenny. Please, take a seat.”

“Is there a problem with my baby, doctor?”

The doctor smiled. “Nothing we can’t fix, caught as early as this. It’s certainly not a life-threatening condition. Please, sit down.”

Jenny sat in the chair by the doctor’s desk. Her pregnancy wasn’t much more than a bump at this stage, easily covered, had she chosen to do so.

"So what was that all about?" Sam asks later, when we finally get a chance to talk. It's getting really hot now, and the footballers have given up to flake out in the shade of the trees at the edge of the beach. I'm trying to sort out the mess that Ateis has made of her hair in only a few hours ashore, while Ateis plays with and narrates her 'treasure,' which seems to comprise mostly shells and interesting pebbles. Some have been worn into rings, which at least looks a little like Jeodine coinage.

"Oh I don't believe it!" I exclaim, when we get within Sam's earshot. I've been saving the exclamation ever since first seeing what she was doing on the beach with a group of the older flotilla children.

"You do realise none of this is real," Lotan says, behind me. I turn as he approaches and hoist myself up quickly to sit on the gunwale. That puts us at a slightly less unequal height. "We're going to wake up in a nice cosy mental ward, just as soon as they figure out how." He has at least made some effort to smarten himself up, and put a mostly-clean tunic on over his leggings. I think he's gained weight. Well, lost some muscle tone anyway, and I think I detect a bit of a paunch under his tunic that wasn't evident while he was lying flat.

A quick heliograph conversation with the deck supervisor on Master Gerat's xebec tells me Lotan hasn't gone ashore, so I go below to change into something more formal and pick up my bow and quiver and my never-go-ashore-without pack, because I know I'll want to see Sam afterwards, and wander down to the jetty deck to take one of the two remaining little dinghies.

Ten days later we're anchored with the rest of the flotilla in a lagoon off the shore of a small thickly forested tropical island. It's hot and humid. Paul's body would have sweated and sweltered, but I'm comfortable in my lightest short tunic. Clear turquoise water and the yells of children at play beckon me, but I'm stuck in the Satthei's quarters, sitting with her at the large desk. She wants me to help with the transfer requests. It soon becomes apparent why. "Master Gerat is requesting Lotan be transferred to another ship," Fareis says. I just sigh.

Sam burps, unseen, near my head. "Ew, that's _not_ ladylike!" I protest. Sam does it again, much louder and more expressively. "Honestly, can't take you anywhere." A quiet chuckle. We're lying on the deck head to head under the furled foresail, watching the stars through the rigging, feeling the deck alternately push at and pull from our backs. "Gotta admit," Sam says, "elves know how to party." "You made a pretty good show, I reckon. I think they liked Queen." "Oh God, I really did that, didn't I?" I chuckle.

It's surprising how much you can learn about archery on board a ship. Weeks of practice, never seeing an arrow, just perfecting the technique of the draw, the balance, the patience, the smooth drawing-back of the string and visualising the line from my hand to the target. I'm growing muscles on my arms that I'm sure weren't there before. I am learning this. Me. Taniel had never learned archery. She had meant to be a shaman. See under Things Not Going To Happen While I'm Around.