Page 28 of My Tiny Giant
“Right. Of course.” Zonko rattled the chains and deadbolts, finally opening the gate. “What, by the Abyss of Krokkan, happened to you?”
The guard’s full attention remained on Agan as I entered. The novelty of meeting a female soldier from Earth must’ve paled in comparison with seeing one of his own reduced to the size of a hand. I would’ve preferred being the one he stared at in this case, as it would mean sparing Agan the unwanted attention—he looked extremely uncomfortable under the guard’s scrutiny.
“The general?” Agan prompted the guard as he kept gawking at him.
“Oh... Right.” Zonko waved at a young boy running by. “Vren! Go find General Trulgadi. Tell him Lieutenant Drankai is requesting to see him.”
Skidding to a stop, the boy stared at Agan, his mouth hanging open, too.
“Go!” Agan snapped, sending Vren off into a sprint across the packed dirt of the central square.
Hundreds of log buildings surrounded the open space in the middle. Most of the structures were low, one-story houses built from dark timber. For the roofing material, Ravils used the gills of the giant mushrooms that grew in this part of the planet. As hard as wood, the gills were more flexible and completely waterproof, making them perfect roof shingles. Almost white when dry, the gills also reflected the heat of the hot Ravie sun, keeping the dwellings cooler inside.
An entire giant mushroom, dried and weathered, was erected in front of the biggest building across the main square from us. The mushroom’s wide, almost flat cap served as an awning over the front steps.
I believed I could see the very top edge of our transport ship gleaming in the sun on the landing pad far down the hill behind the houses.
“Is my unit still here?” I asked Zonko.
He nodded then hurriedly yelled after the departing boy, “And tell the human captain his woman is here, too!”
I couldn’t help an eye roll. Of course, in Zonko’s understanding, I must be someone’s “woman.” Glancing down, I crossed gazes with Agan. His expression was rather grave as he stared at me.
“Do you want to wait here?” I asked.
The central square was packed with Ravil soldiers—all of them male, with most being topless. The chest plates they usually wore to battle were now gone, with no cloth replacing them. Ravils, I’d learned, had a strong aversion to wearing shirts.
Some of the soldiers sat in front of the buildings. Several mingled in groups on the square and around it. A few walked by, leading their riding animals—marids . Roughly about the size of a horse, marids were magnificent six-legged creatures with short white fur that shone gold in the evening sun.
The Ravils in the vicinity were already staring at us.
Sensing Agan’s discomfort, I quickly shielded him with my hand from the curious gazes. He didn’t request to be put down on the ground again. He either didn’t want to attract any more attention or understood the very real danger of being trampled to death if he walked across the busy square on his own.
“Let’s go to the general’s quarters,” Agan gestured at the sprawling building across from the gate, the one with the giant mushroom erected as an umbrella at the entrance.
Hiding him behind my hand, I headed that way.
The Ravils stopped to gape at us as I walked, but they couldn’t spot Agan that easily behind my hand, staring at me instead.
The only time women came to the base was when they had been rescued from the war-ravaged areas of the fescod -occupied parts of the country. They used the Army base as a temporary safe house, not staying for long.
Married women and children were promptly sent to the secure compounds, deep in the parts of the country that were free of fescods . I’d heard from the guys in my unit that the Army shipped young, unmarried women to Neron, to live and work in the entertainment units there. Ravil soldiers often came to Neron for their leave, where they stayed at the entertainment units, too.
Only traces of female presence were evident at the Army base—from a few painted designs over the doors and windows on some of the houses, to the dressier cut of pants with rich embroidery along the seams on some of the males. Arts and crafts, as I’d learned, were primarily the occupations of Ravil women.
I ventured a few furtive glances at the fancy dress pants some of the soldiers were wearing. A daughter of a seamstress, I’d learned how to sew when I was a little girl. The cut and trim of the clothes interested me, though I would never admit my interest to anyone here. I’d never even mentioned my love for sewing to the guys in my unit. No need to give them the extra material for any potential teasing.
A tall Ravil walked out of the building as I approached. He appeared middle-aged, with hair already generously sprinkled with gray, which made his light-brown mane look like it was dusted with frost. He was also the only Ravil I’d seen who wore some resemblance of a shirt—two rectangles of homespun fabric connected by leather lacing on the shoulders and sides.
“That’s General Trulgadi,” Agan said to me. His voice was too quiet for the other man to hear. Just like the rest of the Ravils, the general was staring at me, not paying any attention to what—or rather whom —I hid in my hands.
“General. Lieutenant Emma Nowak, Special Armored Unit from Earth.” I saluted him by bringing my hand to my head. The gesture momentarily exposed Agan. However, the general was studying my face too closely to notice that.
“Lieutenant?” He mechanically returned the greeting in the Ravil fashion, by placing two fingers to his chest over his heart.
“Permission to speak in private,” I requested.
“Pixie!” Rick rushed to us from the nearby house. “You made it!”