Tandy and Danton

Detective Tandy was hunched over the healthy smear of blood coating the tops of the grass blades. Investigating was proving difficult with her green tunic falling over her arms, a barrage of swearing following each time this happened.

Her partner, Detective Inspector Danton, was standing behind her looking off in the middle distance. The medieval rolling green hills with a single dirt road straddling the landscape made for a welcome peaceful change, in comparison to the vast swathes of brutalist concrete and satellite dishes that permeated their own timeline.

“Hey! Daydreamer,” Tandy shouted up to him, jolting Danton, “Give me your gun.”

Danton obliged. The PK-375 Hollowed laser pistol in amongst the beautiful nature filled him with dread. A feeling only met by diving as deep as one can into the uncanny valley. The feeling that it didn’t belong. They certainly didn’t.

Tandy stood up and blasted a hole, the searing turquoise beam showering them in dirt, grass and muck.

“Tandy! What are you doing?”

She looked at the side of the gun and fiddled with a few of the dials. “Jesus, what setting do you have this on? Are you expecting to kill a mammoth?” She asked incredulously.

“Why didn’t you use yours?” He asked.

Tandy absentmindedly held the gun grip-first to Danton and he snatched it back. “If I use your gun, you’re the one who has to fill out the paperwork for firing the shot,” she said, grinning. She dabbed her finger in a blackened section of blood, dabbed it on her tongue, and did the same with an un-blasted section. She nodded.

“This is our guy.”

Danton sighed as he holstered the gun. Tandy rose to her feet.

“Whoever this was was killed by a laser pistol. An older model, but definitely not from this time period. Pass me the genealogy scanner.”

Danton obliged. She slid it open and typed a few commands in the holographic display. Scanning the carcass, a tinny ‘ding’ came from the speaker and the display began running through hundreds of names.

“Seems like we were lucky. The victim’s family line terminates at around the 1600s, no risk to the future. But the fugitive’s definitely somewhere in this area. The burn marks are fresh—”

Danton tapped her shoulder. She hurriedly closed the device and stuffed it in her tunic’s inside pocket. Upon standing up she was met with a man holding the reins of a donkey.

“Good day to you both,” He began, speaking in old English, “What brings you two to this spot?”

“Ah,” Danton began, gesturing to the black and bloody mess. “Me and my wife found this poor soul lying in the land. By my nose it is either a deer or a horse.”

He nodded along, completely ignoring Tandy. She was stifling her laughter about her suddenly assigned wifehood. “Always a bad omen. I imagine whatever beast had killed this has long since left, but I will pray for your journey.”

“Actually, would you be so kind as to tell me where the nearest village is? Me and my…” He looked back at Tandy, still smiling, “…wife are looking for shelter from whatever may have happened here.”

He motioned behind them and turned to leave. Rule 1 of training: Don’t waste a merchant’s time. No exceptions

As the two walked towards the village, once she was sure they were out of earshot, Tandy finally let loose a barrage of laughter. “You leapt to the wife angle pretty quickly, wasn’t sister just as believable?” Tandy said, in between chuckles.

Danton glared at her and continued moving. Further down the dirt road the village came into view over the hill. The two could hear the sounds of the early morning village as its inhabitants went about their business.

The great palisades rising from the earth and obscuring any view indicated this was a former Roman fort, yet the gates were wide open and no guards were in sight. None of the protections of a giant wall but all of the inconvenience. Outside the walls, groups of men tended to the crops in stony silence. Despite how early it was, everybody was operating at maximum speed, hoeing and planting lightning fast.

If one were to be fleeing from the law, this wouldn’t be a bad place to stay.

They entered through the gates and no guards hurried to turn them around. Tandy was relieved that they wouldn’t have to bust out the climbing equipment. The village had every amenity they were expecting from training. The wooden church stood lopsided in the slick mud. The ornate building with a red tiled roof and a jutted out stone turret was the noble’s manor. The rest of the buildings were squat houses with thatched roofs. Peasant houses.

Cows were walked through the street by beleaguered women, expertly dodging manure whenever it presented itself on the ground. Tandy walked up to the nearest person, eager to finally talk to someone on this mission. The woman she picked seemed a great deal more well-off than everyone else. Her clothes were finer and the absence of dirt on her face was notable.

“Blessed day to you,” She said to the woman.

The peasant continued walking, “I apologise, I have no time for out-of-towners. If you wish to buy my cheese please come back later.”

Tandy followed her. “Actually, I am here for information on another out-of-towner who may be in this village. His hair is unkempt and will be much taller than most other men here.”

The peasant paused, her eyes briefly lighting up with recognition but giving her nothing else. “Those who ask questions of other’s business are not welcome here. If you will excuse me.”

Tandy sighed with frustration as the woman left. She walked back to Danton. “He’s here. Getting any information out of these morons is going to be a hassle, though,” She mumbled to Danton in modern English.

“Maybe we should talk to the noble?” Danton suggested. “He’ll probably be hostile to us as peasants, but if we talk long enough he might relent.”

Tandy looked at the church. “I’ve got a better idea.”