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Chapter 10: Cultural Differences.

December 23, 2003

Billings, Montana

2:30 AM, Mountain Standard Time

The miles passed on underneath his feet as the exhausted Marine piloted his car back home. The trip from San Diego had taken twenty hours, and Brian Lancing had only stopped for gas the entire way. The 1994 Acura Legend he was driving was his uncle's... he used it to go back and forth to his hometown when he was on leave. The car had taken the trip without a hitch, and at least it was a comfortable ride.

He glanced down to the gauge cluster, illuminated in yellow-white light. He had placed a small wallet photo upon it, and gave a smile towards its subject. Even through the dim light of the gauges, he could see her.

Erica Lancing smiled back at him. Nearly his five foot eleven height and blessed with copper hair, his wife was among the few reasons he decided to come back home on leave. He had just finished his first tour in Iraq, and wasn't due to report in for nearly three weeks... enough time to spend Christmas at home with his family. While it was unusual for a military wife to live off-post, Erica hated the lifestyle and made a point to keep away from it.

Although the drive out from his station was long and exhausting, he didn't mind it. Just ten more minutes and he'd be at their townhouse... a complete surprise to her as he said he wouldn't be in for two more days. The stereo was blaring the local rock station as he tried to stay awake, but it wouldn't be too long now.

His vision fuzzed over and his chest flared in pain... pounding in time with the massive headache that came on as if his pain receptors had flipped a switch. Everything flared to white for a moment... an involuntary shiver running through him as a chill hit him. A distant voice echoed out to his ears, like he was struggling to listen to an old AM radio broadcast. "We need to get out of here! Follow me!"

And suddenly he was back in control of his car... which somehow hadn't run off the road and into a ditch as the pain hit. Time had seemingly stopped, but he was still hurtling down I-90 at eighty miles an hour... there wasn't much traffic on the interstate at the early hours of the morning, anyway. He was two exits away from being home, and the thought of surprising his wife and sleeping next to her for the first time in nearly a year spurred him onward.

The exit came up within moments and he guided the big Acura to the far right lane, slowing its advance with a gentle push of the brakes. The familiar feeling of the last leg of a long roadtrip settled over him... he had always loved to travel cross-country on a whim. At the top of the exit, he made a right turn, lazily gliding along the cold night streets... covered with a light film of snow. His uncle had mentioned they were getting some light snow last time he called... nearly six hours ago. Speaking of which... Brian reached into a little storage pocket underneath the stereo and pulled his cell phone out. A number was dialed and he held the handset to his ear. The line on the other end rang twice, and a sleepy voice soon answered. "Lancing residence... Nathan speaking."

"Hey, Unc. Just wanted to tell you that I made it safe and sound. You sure you won't sell this car to me?" The Marine chuckled... he had been trying to get his uncle to sell the car to him... mainly since he sold his old Subaru before going into the Marines and didn't have one... and partly because this particular ride held a lot of memories for him.

"Well... we'll talk about it later, Brian. Even though it's wintering in California, it's nice having that to rely on just in case my new Mercedes gives me problems." Nathan laughed in return, pausing a moment before continuing. "Just get home and get some sleep. We'll talk in the...."

His uncle's voice faded out, and another flash of white overcame his vision. The dark interior of the Acura faded out, and all he could tell was that he was in a dim cavern. Another distant voice echoed from over him.... still sounding like an old radio broadcast at the range of reception. The voice was female and apparently British.... she sounded frightened and concerned. "What happened!? Please... help him!"

The scene before him faded back out... just like before the car was still on the road. He had just turned down the residential street towards his townhouse, the Legend gliding along the snow-covered street like a ghost in the night air. It must be exhaustion... that and dealing with some of the horrors he had seen on the battlefield.

The last few blocks became a blur, but as he started to pull in the drive, something was amiss. Erica's Toyota Corolla was parked in the driveway... but next to it sat a familiar red Chevy pickup. Josh Hartmann's truck? Josh was an acquaintance from high school, but why was he there? Brian's suspicions were raised. He simply drove past the house, a cold feeling hanging over his heart as he did so.

At the end of the street he turned around, flipping the Legend's headlights off. "Christ..." he breathed. "What the hell's going on?" With a sigh he coasted towards the house... parking the Acura on the side of the road two doors down. He killed the engine and opened the door to the big sedan... not bothering to pull his duffel bag out of the back seat. The shock of the cold air hit him, causing him to shiver once again.... Montana in December was frigid; far different than balmy San Diego, and an alien world compared to the blistering heat of Iraq. He silently pushed the door shut and crept up to his own house... two years in the Marines taught him to move silently. He reached the door, slowly sliding his key into it....

Another flash of white overcame him. The cavern once again appeared, but his sight was blurry. Two voices were engaged in conversation, but in some sort of strange language. He couldn't decipher it, but the voices seemed full of concern. "A kxadb xo'j jkurco den. Kxudb Melos kxo jkuvv nehbot ed xam, kee." He recognized that voice.... it was that British girl from earlier.

_ _ the other voice was also female, yet significantly older. "Xo dootj hojk, 0eidw edo. Kxoho aj edc0 je misx 0ei sud te... 0ei sud'k hijx xaj xoucadw. 0ei doot ke coulo xam ro."

_ _ The British girl seemed to protest. "A fhemajot m0jocv A neictd'k cejo udekxoh vhaodt. Xo julot m0 cavo... ak'j m0 tik0 ke fhekosk xam. A sud jodjo xo'j dek ad u weet fcuso hawxk den... xo'cc doot jemoedo ke jkudt r0 xam nxod xo unubodj."

The older voice seemed to make a retort, but everything faded out... to the interior of the townhome. He had crept inside and was looking around the darkened room... noting with dismay that clothes were strewn all over the living room. Alarm bells started ringing in his head, and he thought he saw someone in the shadows off to his right. The assumption was correct.

A somewhat familiar male voice boomed out at him. "What the fuck do you think you're doing, breaking in here? I'm going to beat your ass and call the fuckin' cops!" The shadowy figure approached; Brian recognized him as Josh Hartmann. He was dressed only in a set of blue boxer shorts... and that spelled out all he needed to know.

The Marine had no time to make his identity known. Hartmann had been the star quarterback of the football team for two years. He was six-two and two-hundred and thirty pounds... versus Brian's five-eleven and one-hundred seventy. The only advantage in Brian's corner was his close combat training and a couple of San Diego barfights... in which he had held his own.

A large fist came out of the darkness and the Marine countered; grabbing the man's wrist. He used Josh's momentum against him, shoving the ex-football star into an old loveseat that had belonged to his parents. The crack of wood and a yelp of pain were the results of his success; Hartmann falling over the furnishing and taking it down with him. Given an opportunity to react, he reached off to his right and flipped a nearby light switch... bathing the room with an incandescent glow.

As Brian spoke, his voice was full of venom. "Kind of hard to break into my own damn house, isn't it? You've got ten seconds to get your God-damned drawers back on and get the hell out of here." He stepped towards the fallen man, clenching his fist and narrowing his eyebrows.

A voice from behind stopped him. "Brian... what are you doing here? This... this isn't what it looks like!" Erica stood there. Even with disheveled hair and an angry look on her face, she was still beautiful. It was almost enough to temper the fact she was standing there in a similar stage of undress... just a hastily-donned nightgown and nothing else. Almost.

"Yeah, right. How long have you been screwing him, huh? Pretty fuckin' apparent that's what's going on. Didn't even have the damn courtesy to even stop sleeping around a couple of days before I came home." The Marine turned on her.... he had been expecting to give her the surprise of a lifetime by coming home early... only now, he was the one with an unpleasant one on his hands.

"You don't understand! We were..." he cut her off by holding up his left hand. His fingers encircled the ring that had lain on his finger... the one that had been there for the past four years. He slowly pulled it off, taking a look at it before he consigned it to its fate.

The silver ring glinted back at him, and the legend 'Eternity' was legible on the inside of the band. That was how it was going to end, though... all a big lie. "Good luck with your bozo, Erica. I've got better things to do with my time." With that, the Marine tossed the band at her feet and turned around. Before she could do anything... before Josh could extract himself from the ruined loveseat, he stormed out of the house.

The chill hardly affected him as he stomped out to his car. He hadn't even locked it. He yanked the door open and slid into the still-warm leather seat, slamming it shut with much more force than it really needed. Even before the resounding clap echoed out of existence, he had started the car... the familiar rumble of the Legend's V6 echoing throughout the interior. That was as far as he got.

Something settled upon his shoulder, startling him. Glancing back, he saw a face. Completely alien but still somewhat familiar, it belonged to a humanoid fox... with blue fur. The vixen, and that he noted by her all too female appearance underneath the BDU pants and T-shirt she wore, had a concerned expression on her features. "You need to wake up, Brian." Her voice was also familiar... the British chick in those strange flashbacks he had been having.

"I don't see me getting any sleep. Now, who the hell are you, and why are you in my car?" Without waiting for a response, he simply threw the transmission in drive and gunned the accelerator; taking the big sedan away from the house that was, for all purposes, no longer his.

"You really are that far gone, aren't you?" Ignoring the obvious danger of doing so in a moving car, the vixen clambered into the passenger seat. "You already know who I am, Brian... and I'm trying to save your life. You're seriously injured, but you're slipping away. These are your memories... not your life."

"Really? Then, if I'm staring down that light at the end of the tunnel, tell me why I'm reliving my wife cheating on me? Why wouldn't I be reliving something else, like a damn vacation... or downtime with my squad?" He pushed the car further, roaring down the empty, cold streets... not even taking much notice to the fact he was talking to what was likely a figment of his imagination.

"Because this is your dreamscape. Even though you don't realize it, this is the memory you've focused on the most in your waking life... and this is the one you have stuck yourself into. I won't judge you because of it... you are my friend. I just want you to get out of it!" Her tone became angry, more determined... as she shifted in her seat and placed a paw back on his shoulder. "I'm not losing another friend... I've lost too many already."

"Join the crowd, lady." Brian spat out with as much anger as his voice could muster, stomping on the Legend's accelerator. The automatic transmission shuddered as it downshifted twice, and the car was now roaring down the snowy streets. His eyes fell on the speedometer; its needle climbing past sixty. "You know how many friends I have lost, huh? Too many to count! IEDs, insurgent snipers, and now... infidelity."

"Stop it!" the vixen roared, her paw gripping his shoulder with almost vise-like strength. "You've relived this horrible scene six times.. do you want to put yourself through this for eternity? Is this what you want?" She gripped him tighter. "You are needed out there! You saved my life, Brian! And I'll be damned to the Void if I'm going to let you die in your dreamscape!" Shooting him a determined look, her hand shot for the steering wheel... wrenching it hard to the right.

As the crazed foxette grabbed the wheel, he fought her... unsuccessfully. He slammed on the brakes and the car skidded on the icy asphalt. The out-of-control Acura narrowly avoided several parked cars and a streetlamp, but ended up slamming against the curb. The bipedal fox, who was not wearing a seatbelt, was thrown into the dash with a grunt.

"Jesus H. Christ, lady!" Brian screamed. "What are you trying to do, get us killed! Oh, wait, you're a figment of my imagination, so you're not the one getting..." the Marine was cut off by her advance. Her paws fell to his temples, but the look she gave wasn't anger... it was fear.

"Please... you're dying. Can't you tell? I'm trying to throw enough of a stop onto your memories that you can get out of this loop! You told me that we're going to have to watch each others' backs... just come back with me! Leave this behind!" Her emerald eyes locked onto Brian's hazel ones. "All this is in the past!"

Brian's hand fell upon the Legend's door handle, or at least tried to. His hand passed through the door as if it were an illusion. The entire car was fading around him as he met the strange fox's gaze. A glint of recognition fell across him as those eyes bored into his soul. As everything faded into a white glow, a name came to him.

"Krystal?"

*-------------------*

His entire world was pain. The white glow dissipated, and with that came one of the most excruciating headaches he had ever experienced... which almost drowned out the fact his chest was screaming at him every time he took a breath. As he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed were those emerald eyes staring back at him. Krystal had a concerned expression on her features, yet she removed her paws from his temples. "You're back... thank Melos."

"What the... what the hell happened?" It hurt just to speak, but he had to. He had been charged by some massive Sharpclaw, and then everything was blurry after that. His mind caught fragments of old memories, but... he was pretty damn confused.

"You were almost killed by a Sharpclaw Brute. Tricky and Garunda Te managed to bring you back here to Thorntail Hollow... and you managed to find the power jewels that fuel my staff." The vixen looked around the cavern they were in... the same one that the Queen made her temporary residence. "You were stuck in your dreamscape, Brian.... I'm sorry to have invaded your mind, but I had to get you out of there. You would have passed to the Beyond if you hadn't."

the Marine hazily focused on what she was saying, but most of the stuff about dreams went way over his head... all he got was that she had read his mind while he was out. The fact that his chest heart meant he had broken or fractured ribs... and that meant he would be in pain for months. "You do what you have to." He spoke in a low voice, taking sips of air to avoid aggravating his injuries. "I'm not going to... be moving for a while. Not sure how much help I'm going to be to you."

The Cerinian sat back on the corner of his makeshift bed, casting a frown in the Marine's direction. "The Queen has let us stay here to recover.... neither of us are in good enough shape to get back out there." She pulled up the hem of her T-shirt, allowing him to see the blood-spotted bandages around her midsection. "My staff's power drove out Scales' wounding enchantment, but it's going to take a little longer for this to heal. Maybe a couple of days."

"I think I broke a couple of ribs, and I hope to God I don't have a skull fracture." Brian hissed in pain as he tried to move a little bit, drawing another concerned look from his vulpine friend. "Even if I was in a hospital, there's not much they could do... and I'd be laid up for a couple of months. Got taken out of the game as it barely begun. How the hell are we supposed to do this when I'm a damn gimp?"

A thoughtful look passed over Krystal's features... an idea forming in her mind. With a wince, she pushed her makeshift bed closer to his, drawing a strange look from the Marine as she did so. The gashes on her side made themselves known even though she made sure not to harm herself any more than she already had. After she pressed her pile of Lightfoot-traded fur up against his, she reclined upon it... a sigh of relief given as the pain subsided.

"I don't see how moving up next to me is going to help mend my broken ribs, Krystal." The look on his face said it all... he thought she had lost her mind. Instead of offering a response, she reached over.... grabbing her staff and placing it into his hand. Almost instantly the headache faded to a dull annoyance, and the agony of his ribs scaled back to become almost tolerable.

"So we can use my staff to help heal us both." She smirked at him as she grasped her weapon as well... making sure the small collection of power jewels Tricky had collected were within easy reach. "I don't think we could consider this a vacation, but at least we're not being attacked... right?"

"At least yet." Brian muttered. "Those damn Sharpclaw are everywhere... even worse than those insurgents we were fighting." The Marine scoffed, staring up at the distant, dim ceiling of the cavern.

"You never told me much about why you were fighting, or why your planet needs a military... don't you have a ruling council that would keep things together and makes fair rulings for everyone on your planet?" Cerinia was rather peaceful and didn't have need for anything but a small military... she had the sneaking feeling that humans were rather warlike by nature.

Brian glanced towards her, an incredulous look on his face. "Everyone on Earth? A single government for everyone on my world?" He burst out laughing, which caused a surprised look to spring upon the vixen's features. "Good God, no... that would never fly."

Krystal frowned at him... that was one of the things that had been drilled into her by the studies she was required to do on Cerinian politics. As a member of a Council family, it was her duty to know how their laws worked... and the thought of not having a planet-wide government was shocking. How... "How does your world function? How do they expect laws to be obeyed and progress to be made if there isn't a strong Council to make it all work?" She blurted it out, once again reminded she was dealing with an alien and not another Cerinian citizen.

"We have national governments... eh, governments that preside over their own separate territories. We don't really have much of anything happening on a global level... I guess the UN would count, but that's for all intents and purposes a forum to settle misgivings and promote diplomatic relations between nations." Brian scratched his cheek with his free hand... something told him he had let some sort of cat out of the bag with this one.

Krystal inwardly winced at the revelation. Separated governments that probably squabbled and fought over resources and territory, rather than a strict hierarchy with an educated, compassionate ruling class making decisions for the benefit of everyone. "I just don't see how that works, Brian. Stronger 'nations' could easily rule over the weak... how are the weaker ones supposed to protect themselves from the stronger... or is everything equally divided?"

This wasn't something Brian expected... a civics discussion with an alien. That, and he was pretty poorly armed for this sort of battle. "Alliances and treaties between nations and groups of nations are quite common. For the most part, everyone leaves everyone else alone... but squabbles happen, or the handful of rogue nations stir up problems. They're usually put back into line relatively quickly."

"And your job is to battle these... rogue nations? How does your ruling class make sure that a nation really is... 'rogue?'" That piqued her interest... she had taken an interest in how politics worked on Cerinia, and hearing a flawed yet functioning alternative piqued her interest.

The Marine arched an eyebrow at her mention of a 'ruling class'. Did she come from sort of kingdom or something? He had to ask. "What do you mean by... ruling class? You mean like a nobility or something like that?"

She nodded enthusiastically... he was getting what she was saying. "Yes, a... nobility. Family lines that have been entrusted to rule... that's how it works on Cerinia, at least. Our Great Council is composed of two hundred thirty Ruling Seats... the head lifemates of a Family. Whenever an issue is brought up, every Family votes. Every Family must vote on every issue, and votes are only counted when all of them are accounted for. It's simple, right? A ruling class working together for the benefit of all?"

Brian's eyes widened. "Uhm... each nation has a different form of government. Mine actually works much like yours, but there's no ruling class. Anyone can run for Congress, Senate, or the Presidency. The United States was formed on the principle that the people ruled, and that there was no need for any sort of nobility."

Krystal's eyes widened in turn. "There's no ruling class in your nation? Simply anyone can join your version of a Grand Council? How in Melos' name does that work? If you wanted to be on your Grand Council, what would you do?"

"It's a very highly selective process. Running for public office is expensive, and you have to have enough people willing to back you by donating money to even have a chance. But, in America... everything's run like that. You can find a council in charge of a single city, a state, or on the national level... the stakes just increase the higher up you get." The Marine shrugged as best he could, looking Krystal straight in the eyes. "They're not elite citizens. They're only where they're at because the people themselves vote on who gets put into office. They make decisions for us, but if we don't like them... they can easily be replaced come the next election."

"Really." She thought about that a moment... there were differences between Families, that was for certain. The Haleths in particular were particularly involved with the political process, and internal debating on matters that hadn't yet reached the voting stage was very common. Other Familes had different ways of doing things... in many others only the head lifemates discussed and voted; leaving the rest of the Family... and the Cerinians under their care... completely at their mercy. "Is your nation unique in this method? Is your nation a stronger or weaker one?"

"America? No... quite a few other nations have similar systems. As far as strength goes, we've got a pretty strong military, but... I'm no political hack, Krystal. Before I joined the Marines, I was going to school to learn how to fix computers, not how to be a politician. Why the questions about it? Are you one of Cerinia's nobility or something?

The vixen blushed, making her immediately thankful of the dim cavern as well as the fact he probably couldn't tell it from her expression... if her sheepish smile didn't give it away. Her tail twitched nervously. "I am, yes. My parents were on the Grand Council. I would hold my duties as a Guardian and then a Temple Channeler until they decide to pass on the seat to me. If I had chosen a lifemate, he would get a seat as well... otherwise I would have one chosen for me before I took on those duties."

"Lifemate?" Brian was confused, but he assumed it was her way of saying that being married was a requirement. "Let me get this straight. You'd have to be married to someone before you get the chance to join the table, and the chance gets passed down through your family? That's kind of strange."

"It's tradition, Brian. It's how we honor Melos; anyone in position of authority in the priesthood or the Council must be Joined with a lifemate in order to fulfill their duties, as only the perspective gained by the sacred bond of trust allows one to lead with a compassionate paw." That one had been taught to her in so many different ways. It was tradition, but she didn't spend too much time dwelling on it. Even if she didn't fully understand how finding a lifemate would help one become a well-rounded leader, it meant happiness, right?

Brian huffed and cast his gaze towards the ceiling. "Yeah. Right. I'd hate to disagree on that, but at least on human terms, it seldom works out that way. I don't mean any disrespect, but you don't learn jack shit by having a ring on your finger... except that eternity doesn't last as long as you think."

The harsh tone of his voice and the bitter edge behind his thoughts caused Krystal to wince. She had struck some sort of nerve. Her tail nervously twitched as she thought about how to phrase her next question. "I saw you in your dreamscape, Brian... while I was trying to get you out. She was your lifemate, wasn't she?"

The Marine grumbled, turning away from her as he did so. "That's not up for discussion. Leave my private life out of it." It was as if someone had flipped a switch within him. Krystal could feel a wave of bitter thoughts flood through his mind... what had happened between him and his former lifemate was a major thorn in his paw, so to speak.

The concept was very strange to her... lifemates meant that. Mated for life, never to fall apart. Breaking apart from a mate on Cerinia was a very rare occasion; those seeking to do so were required to first work through their problems with a temple priest. This worked for nearly all occasions... was human culture any different? She had to do something.

"It is up for discussion, Brian." Her voice grew stern, taking the commanding presence of a Guardian and member of a Council Family. "Your thoughts of what she put you through nearly killed you. If I hadn't intruded and stopped you from reliving that night, you would have died." Without asking, her free paw closed over his hand. "These thoughts of pain and hatred cloud your judgment, your mind, and your spirit... regardless of what you think about our beliefs. The Scrolls of Life teach us that bitter thoughts bear bitter fruit. I know you don't want that out of your life."

"Christ, Krystal." Brian spat. "I don't need a god-damn lecture about this. You're the one making the big deal about it. I might be angry about it, but who cares? It's not like Erica's going to show up here with her lawyer anytime soon and drag my ass to more divorce proceedings!" He turned away from the vixen as much as he could, and the thought of letting go of the staff crossed his mind. Yet, he couldn't afford to limp around in that amount of pain. "This discussion is over, Krystal. Don't bring Erica up to me again. Okay?"

The vixen snarled as a sudden vision of her mother flashed before her eyes. As she spoke, she tried to fight back the wave of tears that attempted to make their presence known. "Fine, Brian. You're not the only one who has lost someone... keep your bitter paws around that thought, and heed my words well. I won't let your hatred and pain jeopardize my life, and the lives of these innocent Saurians." With a huff she let go of the staff and stood up all in one motion... hiding the piercing pain from her side as she did so. "If I give you an order, I'm going to expect you to follow it."

The Marine scoffed. "Sir, yes, sir!" As the Cerinian limped out of the cavern, he rolled his eyes... she wanted to bring up his past, and got pissy just because he decided that now it wasn't the time for a therapy session. As the silence encroached, he leaned back... allowing sleep to overtake him within moments.