“Because
that can’t be our Rayek over there,” Cutter says. “I mean, look at him!”
He scowls in distate. “He’s... (ugh) smiling!”
“I
didn’t like what I saw at tribal council last night,” Swift says as a cold
morning breeze blows over their campsite. “I didn’t like it one bit. Coppersky
and his gang are playing their own game. I think we need to get our act
together. I don’t intend to lose control of this tribe.”
Over at Camp Warp, the tribe is slowly waking up. Tyleet, Crescent and Nightfall are cheerfully going for a water run together. Scouter and Strongbow are sleeping in. Cutter is brooding. “It’s too soon to let our guard down. Much too soon. I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose to that... drag act that’s running the Alternaverse elves.”
“Tree-mail!” Crescent announces, floating back into camp.
Over at Camp Alt, the elves gather around to read the tree-mail. “‘The challenge begins now,’” Swift reads out. “‘Center body and mind, and leave your old life behind. Take all you can carry and follow the clues. Old friends await you, and also... great news.’ Ugh. I hate verse. All right. We’re moving camp. Grab everything of value.”
At Camp Warp, the tribe is furiously dismantling their shelter and taking everything they can. Cutter’s voice rings out. “All the tools they didn’t take back. All our weapons. Let’s move! Let’s move!” Meanwhile, Skywise examines the text that accompanied the point. “One half-mile directly north until you come to a giant uprooted ficus tree. Already. The lodestone says north is that-a-way. Hurry. If we’re lucky, the Alternaverse is sleeping in.”
The Alt elves follow their own directions a half-mile northeast until they arrive at the first marker – a huge boulder lying in the middle of a wooded glade. “Okay. ‘Turn west and walk until you come to a shallow canyon,” Gypsy reads. “Which way is west?”
Savin: (Brusque) That way.The Warp elves have reached the uprooted tree, and are now following a clumsily made game trail through the forest. “Who made this, trolls?” Skywise asks the air. No one else is listening. Cutter’s eyes are on the prize as he bushwacks his way through the jungle. “What if the reward is a visit from your loved ones? Hold on, Leetah! I’m a’coming!”Gypsy: Sor-ry! We can’t all be geography majors.
Nightfall is more pensive. “I don’t like moving camp,” she says to Tyleet as they hike through a field of stinging spiky grass. “Something isn’t right. What if Winnowill is changing the game and merging the tribes early?”
The Alt tribe get turned around the canyon, and when they finally emerge onto the beach, they cannot find the washed-up shipwreck. “Are you sure we came out on the right side of the island?” Gypsy asks. But then Coppersky climbs up on a rock and cries out that he sees the wreck a half-mile down the beach. The Alt-elves stumble in the sand with their heavy backpacks.
The Warp elves come out onto a beach and find two canoes waiting for them. They climb into the one with the blue flag hanging off the stern and start paddling for the tiny atoll across the bay. A few minutes later, the Alternaverse elves appear around the corner. “Canoes!” Swift cries. “There’s the other tribe! Let’s go!”
“We have to get to that little island,” Gypsy shouts as she struggles through the sand. Savin is leading the party across the beach. “They’ve only got a slight lead. We can catch up. We can.”
They leap into their canoe and start paddling. “Hey! There are only seven paddles!” Gypsy shouts. “Not fair! Not fair!”
Savin’s steady hand and Brightmetal’s strong arm soon have them paddling out to sea. Gypsy and Littlefire sit in the center of the canoe with nothing to do. They begin to narrow their lead on the Warp elves. But with two extra people and no extra paddles, they have to propel more weight. As they near the atoll, Warp holds its slight lead.
“Hey, look!” Gypsy shouts. “Look. On the beach.” She gestures wildly. “It’s Daddy. And... and is that Leetah?”
Sure enough, a leather-clad Leetah and a cheerful Rayek are waving from the beach. “It’s Leetah!” Cutter shouts. “My Leetah! Dig deeper!”
“How do you know she’s our Leetah?” Scouter asks.
“Because
that can’t be our Rayek over there,” Cutter says. “I mean, look at him!”
He scowls in distate. “He’s... (ugh) smiling!”
Alt-Rayek: So... in your world you dumped me for that steroid-glutton?
Canon-Leetah: And in your world... you dumped me for that scrawny floozy?
Alt-Rayek: Ah, that’s nothing. In my world... you and Scouter just had a kitling.
Canon-Leetah: I think I’m going to be sick.Winnowill steps out onto the beach. “Come on!” she shouts. “Let’s move it. You’re both still in it!” But it’s already clear who the victor will be. Alternaverse can’t catch up with Warp’s lead. Cutter’s canoe hits the sand first, and all seven elves scramble onto the shore. “Winner! Warp!” Winnowill cries.
Swift: We tried. You know. We really tried. I’m proud of everyone.
“Warp,
you win the day,” Winnowill says. “And that means you get to enjoy the
charming company of... ugh... Leetah, for the next twenty-four hours. Sorry,
Rayek. You’ll be going home tonight, I’m afraid.”
Swift: Bye, sweetie!
Rayek: Luv ya. Destroy that pitiful excuse for a eunuch.“Now, you’re probably wondering why you’re out here on this little atoll,” Winnowill continues. “Well, you’re all in for a treat. It seems my baby-boy Two-Edge is just ashamed of the conditions you’ve been forced to live in. And since we went to counselling, I can’t deny my darling a thing. As we speak, licensed and bonded trolls are building two new camps for you to enjoy. And while construction is underway, you will be sojourning here on this beautiful little coral atoll. And for the Warp tribe, we have a lovely native longhouse and a tribal feast waiting for you. Now, space is limited, and the food has been ordered for no more than ten elves. But... you have a choice. Share this bounty with the Alternaverse elves... earning you their love but only half-full stomachs. Or, feast while they go hungry and sleep outside... and pay for it once you get to the merge.”
Cutter considers it a moment. He looks over the Alternaverse tribe. At length he smiles. “Of course they can join us.”
The Alternaverse elves erupt into hoots of delight. Swift gives Cutter a diplomatic nod. Winnowill claps her hands. “Wonderful. I’ll see you all tomorrow at noon. Think of this as a day off. Get to know each other better.”
Nightfall: I don’t trust that snake. She’s up to something. We’ll probably be set out to sea on rafts next. On the other hand... well, a rest and a nice meal would be lovely.The elves hike up the sandy hill and find a wooden Polynesian longhouse staffed by chirpy humans. A long table has been laid out with roast pig, breadfruit, fresh fish, buffalo chicken wings, and six extra-large pizzas. “Ohh. Very traditional,” Savin remarks archly.
“It was great to sit down and actually meet the other tribe,” Gypsy says. “Of course we had so many questions, and they had so many for us. Skywise kept trying to flirt with Savin.”
Skywise: (waggles eyebrows)So... do I remind you of anyone? No, seriously, so what am I like? I mean, your me.
Cutter: (mildly disgusted) So... Gypsy. I’m your... (gah) mother, am I?“Everything was going well,” Tyleet says later. “I started chatting with Spar, and it was amazing how much we had in common. Except, she’s like this edgy black-leather version of me. It’s really exciting.”
Spar: Tyleet... mmm, sweet innocent Tyleet. Sugar and spice and everything nice. (licks lips) She’s like a... Lolita school-girl or something.
Swift: Okay... that’s just wrong.“And then I pulled out my pictures to show everyone my family,” Tyleet continues. “And it turns out that Spar has one too. So she showed me her children and her pictures of Oasis – she has four children, can you believe it? And the Sun Folk live with the last of the Gliders – how trippy is that? So passed her photos around. And then I passed around all my pictures of the Wild Hunt.”
“And Coppersky was sitting right next to Tyleet,” Savin explains. “And he was practically melting on the bench right there when he saw a picture of their Sust. I could just tell he was about to go into a drunken reverie. And then Tyleet turned the page and there was Sust and Pool arm-in-arm...”
Tyleet: The poor dear got a little queasy after that. I don’t quite understand.
Coppersky: Unclean... unclean....“Yeah, he hit the drink pretty hard after that,” Savin confirms. “When you find out your lifemate is probably cheating on you with your worst enemy’s son in a parallel universe – well, how do any of us know how well we’ll handle that?”
Coppersky: Unclean... unclean...“Coppersky’s a really depressing drunk,” Brightmetal says. “And he sort of brought the whole party down. And it wasn’t too long before Cutter started asking Swift to justify all her actions as chief... and Scouter started complaining about... something. And Strongbow and Cheipar just sat there and glared at each other all night long. I felt like such an odd man out.”
“And then Cutter and Leetah went skipping off...” Swift groans. “Didn’t see them until the next morning. Ugh. Do they have to do this in every story?”
Sitting off by himself, nursing a dark malt, Cheipar senses Crescent nearby. He looks up at her and offers her a diplomatic nod. “I know you,” Crescent says. “I mean... I know the other you.”
Cheipar sits up straighter, suddenly alert. “What am I like... over there?” he asks.
“You – he died... when he was just a baby. So his spirit stays young. He was lonely for a long time... it took him a while to understand why his parents weren’t around anymore. But he’s very happy now. He likes to play with all the other spirits of baby Wolfriders.” Crescent’s voice grows cheerful for a moment, then fades. “You’re sad now,” she says. Cheipar nods.
The elves spend a peaceful night asleep under the longhouse. Except for Cutter and Leetah, who stagger in much later. And Littlefire, who sits awake, wide-eyed, disturbed by the sound of too many strange elves. Crescent floats around in the aether overhead, neither quite asleep, nor quite awake. **Lonely?** she asks Littlefire. He nods.
By daybreak everyone wakes refreshed, rested, and overjoyed at the thought that they will all be returning to their separate tribes. But Winnowill does not come by, even as morning turns to afternoon. The only food left is rotting leftovers from the banquet. Tensions begin to fray.
Around 1 pm, there is a commotion on the beach. Cutter draws New Moon and races towards the sounds of fighting. The other elves follow close behind. They reach the beach and their jaws collectively drop. Leetah and Swift are in the middle of a brutal slap-and-scratch bitch-fight. Leetah pulls Swift’s hair while Swift pummels her. Skywise sees the fight and bursts out laughing. Savin lets out a wail of outrage, then begins cheering Swift on. Cutter runs in and tries to break them up. “Hey, don’t stop a good thing,” Skywise begs. “They might rip some clothes next.”
Cutter: (authoritative) By Bearclaw’s beard! What is going on here?Swift lunges for Leetah. “C’mere you piece of–” the rest is lost under a stream of bleeped curse words. Cutter struggles to reestablish his authority. “Who started it?” “She did!” both women reply.Leetah: She’s psychotic! Crazy tweeked-out psycho-bitch!
Swift: She had it coming!
Leetah: You just... threw yourself at me!
Swift: (turning to her tribemates for aid) She called me a Mary-Sue!The eight other Alternaverse elves back up in horror, muttering “Ooooo” under their breath. Cutter looks around, bewildered. “What?” he asks. “I mean... you are Mary-Sues, aren’t you?”
Skywise: (sotto voce) Dude. Not cool. Not cool.“I mean... you’re all fan-created characters... isn’t that what you people call yourselves?” Cutter continues, failing to notice how the Alternaverse elves are slowly beginning to encircle him, murder written across their faces.
Skywise: (backing away) I... I’m not with him.Winnowill arrives in the late afternoon to find Cutter and Leetah both very bruised and bloodied. Strongbow looks worse for the wear too. The Alternaverse elves are beaming with delight.
Winnowill shoos Leetah away, then gets down to business. “Now, I have a surprise for you all. I hope you’ve all gotten to know each other better, ‘cause you’ll now be spending a lot of time together. Drop your buffs. Come on, come on. Let’s go. From now on the Alternaverse tribe and the Warp tribe no longer exist. From now on you’re... tribe Anthrax and tribe Typhoid. Oh, let’s not quibble about names,” she adds when she sees their horrified faces. “I have here a hat full of buffs,” she brandishes a giant troll sunhat, “and you’ll each draw new colours in turn.”
The new buffs are black and yellow. Cutter draws a yellow one. So does Swift. So do Cheipar, Strongbow, Brightmetal, Gypsy Moth, Crescent and Tyleet. The others, Savin, Skywise, Scouter, Nightfall, Littlefire, Weatherbird, Spar and Coppersky, all draw black. There are only brief moments in which to say farewells. Then the two new tribes must part ways. “Anthrax, your canoe is over here,” Winnowill says. “Typhoid, you’re this way.”
Swift and Cutter eye each other dubiously. Skywise leers at Savin. Littlefire looks completely out of his element. Cheipar gazes at his little brother sadly.
Cheipar: Littlefire... what is he going to do with... them?“Oh, I almost forgot,” Winnowill adds with an evil smirk. “We’re going to be having a double tribal council tomorrow night. No immunity challenge. Both tribes will have to vote out a member by tomorrow.”
Swift: Aww...The poorly-named Anthrax tribe paddle off to their new campsite. There they find a shelter already erected, and a set of painting supplies. “We need a new tribe banner,” Tyleet says cheerfully. “And a new name. We can’t keep called ourselves Anthrax.”Cutter: I knew it! I knew it! This whole game is rigged.
“Kumquat,” Swift suggests wryly.
They embark on a long and drawn out argument. Several tribe names are tossed around. “Wolfrider” “Windrunner” “Owl-eyes” “Strongheart” “Two Chiefs” and on and on. Strongbow and Cheipar embark on another staring contest. Swift and Cutter nearly come to blows. They vote many times, never reaching a consensus. Finally they settle on Kumquat as likely to offend the least number of people.
Crescent
shakes her head. “Two A-type chieftains fighting for the same tribe.
This won’t end well. I’m learning that Cutter is not exactly... stable.
And if Swift even remotely resembles him, it’s going to be painful.”
Cutter: *grumble*... *grumble* Mary-Sue...Swift: **You suck, Tam!**
Cutter: AAAAAAGGGGH! Don’t do that!Over at Tribe Typhoid, the elves are painting a new tribal banner. They have chosen the name Green Moon for their tribe, after Savin’s home of Green Moon Bay. “It’s a good strategy,” Nightfall explains to the camera. “There are only three Warp elves and five of these Alt elves running around loose. Who knows... they might pick us one by one, starting with council tomorrow. But we can’t assume anything in this game. I choose to believe that if we make them feel welcome we might work something out.”
Savin: (aside to Coppersky) Which little piggy, pretty boy?At the newly named Camp Kumquat, Cutter gathers his forces together. “I’m looking at Brightmetal,” he tells Tyleet, Crescent and Strongbow. “Or maybe Gypsy Moth.”Coppersky: (sotto voce) Scouter.
Savin: (patting him on the back) Good answer.
**Why not Swift?** Strongbow demands. **She is their leader. Cut off the head of the snake and its body will wither away.**
“Brightmetal is good at challenges,” Crescent says. “We can use that strength. It’s not the merge yet, after all. I like him.”
But Cutter shakes his head. “Swift’s pretty good at the physical stuff too. Besides. She’s fierce. We might be able to use her. We might need to use her later on. At the merge. So we go for Brightmetal. He’s big and dopey and no one will miss him. Or Gypsy Moth.”
Strongbow: **We should strike at Swift now. I don’t understand why Cutter is hesitating?**The tribe has an uneasy sleep through the night. Morning sees Brightmetal join Crescent on the beach. “So... what’s it like being dead?” he asks lamely. “Um... I... I’m not very good at this. But... I was thinking. You’re dead. I’m a quarter-troll. We’re both... sort of outsiders. Maybe... we could make an alliance, or something.”
Crescent smiles sadly and shakes her head. Brightmetal presses clumsily. “Because of Cutter? Come on, Crescent. Do you really think Cutter’s the right chief to have here? He’s... he doesn’t think, you know? He just charges through everything without a plan. Look at the elves on the other tribe. They’ve got Savin... and Skywise... and Nightfall... thinkers! You’re probably all going to vote Swift off tonight, but if you do... we’re all going to be limping around without a leader who can think. I can’t be a leader! I know it. But I know a leader when I see it. And it’s not Cutter. Please, Crescent.”
Crescent only smiles sadly again. Brightmetal returns to Swift’s side. “They’re not voting for you,” he says. “They’re voting for me.”
Swift: You sure?
Brightmetal: Ghosts can’t play poker. Well, not that ghost.Swift: Will she break?
Brightmetal: She’s a sucker for the idiot man-child routine. She might.Swift grins. “You’re so bad.” She pats his shoulder and walks off. “I’ll have to vote you off, you know,” she calls back. “Not if I vote you off first, chieftess,” he laughs.
Gypsy Moth is sunning herself on the beach. “I’m a little nervous,” she confesses. “Everything’s been going so well, and now these damn Warp elves are going to screw everything up. Blah... I need some caffeine. It’s been too long. They’ve got this tea at Green Moon Bay... it’s out of this world. Man... I’d kill someone for some of that. I’d kill someone just to be able to ‘go out’ and see my girlfriend on the astral plane.”
Meanwhile, Crescent rallies her tribemates around her. “Not Brightmetal,” she murmurs. “He’s... he’s no threat to us. And he’ll be good in any physical challenges we have. The merge is a long way away. Gypsy Moth isn’t the strongest, she isn’t the brightest, and without her Swift will have one less supporter. I think Brightmetal’s more likely to side with us. Please, Cutter. Can we think about it?”
Cutter frowns. “I don’t know,” he tells the camera. “Crescent says she only cares about the tribe, but I have to wonder what she and Brightmetal were talking about. But we’ll think it over. We have to consider every side of this riddle.”
Over at the Green Moon tribe, the three Warp elves are scrambling to decide who to vote for. “Spar,” Scouter says. “Did you notice how she doesn’t help out much at camp? We might be able to get Savin on board to take her out.”
Skywise agrees readily. “I’ll talk to Savin about it. We’ve got a connection.”
Nightfall
shakes her head. “You don’t really. You just look like her lifemate. Remember
that. You’re not the same as that Skywise. And she won’t love you like
she loves that Skywise. She’s got ‘chieftess’ written all over her right
now. Be careful.”
Scouter: Chieftess my ass!A few hours later, Savin is spotted whispering to Skywise. The camera and microphone crew pull back out of range so their conversation cannot be heard. Their body language is telling. Savin is leaning towards him, and Skywise is visibly wilting.
The microphones swing in for the final bit of their conversation. “So... we have an alliance?” Savin purrs seductively. “I can count on you, can’t I... Fahr?”
Skywise: Damn. Damn, damn damndamndamn... I love this chick!The Kumquat tribe comes to tribal council in the late afternoon on Day 15. Winnowill asks them how they are doing, then politely inquires about Cutter’s many bruises. Cutter smiles tightly. “Brightmetal, how are you doing?” Winnowill asks next. “Do you feel threatened, being such an obvious physical threat?”
Brightmetal: I... just take it one day at a time, Gamma. Seems the smart thing to do.
Winnowill: Gypsy Moth. You’ve been sitting pretty all this time, safe under your mommy’s arm. Do you feel nervous at all now that you’ve got four Warp elves who don’t even acknowledge your basic right to exist?
Gypsy Moth: No... why would I? What do you know? What’s on the daily tapes?
Winnowill: Nothing at all, sweetheart. Cheipar, anything you’d like to say?Cheipar: (confused) No.
Winnowill: Of course you don’t. And with that it is time to vote.The elves vote, then return to their places. Winnowill reads the votes. It comes to a tie. Four votes for Cutter. Four for Gypsy Moth. Gypsy swears audibly. Creepy tribal rhythms begin to play as Winnowill gestures for Gypsy and Cutter to come forward. “We’ll have no re-vote,” she says. “Instead we’ll draw lots. Unless one of you wants to step down. No? Sure? No, of course not. All right. Two stones. One white, one black. Black one goes home. Ready?”
Cutter: No.They draw. Cutter withdraws the white stone. Gypsy pulls the black one. “Well, in this case, the tribe has definitely not spoken,” Winnowill shrugs. “But I don’t really care. Gypsy, it’s time for you to go.”Winnowill: Well, you don’t have a choice.
Gypsy gives her mother a big hug, then turns and walks out, her head held high. Cutter and the Warp elves are relieved. Crescent gives Brightmetal an encouraging smile. The Kumquat tribe treks back to camp as the sun begins to set.
A few hours later the Green Moon tribe arrives. Nightfall and Scouter insist that everyone is getting along wonderfully. Spar announces that she’s turning over a new leaf. When quizzed by Winnowill about his new tribemates, Littlefire wriggles uncomfortably in his seat. “They don’t smell right,” he mumbles. “And they’re loud. And I miss my brother. I want my brother back.” Weatherbird pats his hand gently, then struggles not to flinch visibly when he squeezes it far too tightly.
“And how are you faring with your tribe?” Winnowill asks Skywise. He smiles. “I love my new tribemates. Coppersky, Spar, Weatherbird... even little Littlefire here.”
Winnowill: And Savin...
Skywise: Oho yeah... and Savin! Savin is... fantastic!
Winnowill: Savin, are you manipulating this poor elf with use of his soulname and half-veiled promises of sex?
Savin: Yes, Winnowill. Yes I am.
Winnowill: Bravo. And with that, it is time to vote.The elves retire, then return to their seats. Winnowill goes and counts the votes. “Once the votes are read, the decision is final, the elf will be asked to leave the tribal council area immediately. I’ll read the votes. Spar. Scouter. Spar. Scouter. That’s two votes for Spar, two votes for Scouter. Scouter. Two votes Spar, three votes Scouter. Scouter. Two votes Spar, four votes Scouter. And Scouter. Five votes Scouter. That’s enough.”
Scouter sighs miserably. Then Winnowill grins. “But why not look at that last vote, shall we?” She pulls out the last piece of paper. “And last vote. Scouter.”
Scouter swallows his rage. He blinks several times as he does the math in his head. Six votes. Someone from the Warp elves has betrayed him. “Skywise!” he growls, turning on his tribemate. Skywise only grins and waggles his eyebrows.
“It’s time for you to go, Scouter,” Winnowill calls. Scouter is visibly fighting the urge to murder Skywise. Nightfall is sitting with her head in her hands. Savin and Weatherbird high-five each other. Littlefire blinks. Spar grins. Coppersky blows Scouter a kiss farewell.
“I think it’s safe to say ‘It’s on now,’” Winnowill says. “You can all
head back to camp.”
| GYPSY MOTH’S LAST WORDS | SCOUTER’S LAST WORDS |
 What
the hell? Brightmetal said they were going to vote for him! When did the
plan change? Dammit. If Winnowill hadn’t switched tribes around on us -
You know what – screw it! I’m going to the celebrity beach house, and I’m
going to call up Sandpiper on the astral plane, and I’m going to chill
out. |
 I hate
Skywise sooooo much...
|