They kept blasting down the highway, making the most of this opportunity. They made another left at the next cloverleaf, and ended up headed east on the 403. Soon their destination was in sight. The stone blocks alongside the highway had once served as noise dissipaters for the residential communities nestled within, but now they served as a protective barrier for the Saugan Vedas. Barbed wire was coiled at their top with broken glass. At the highway’s exit was a chain-link gate on wheels. It was closed, and set of dragon’s teeth laid in front of also blocked the path. A small guard shack made of sheet metal was nestled in against the wall.
As they neared two guards stepped out of the building and watched them approach. Wentworth remembered Vince saying they were called ‘Kshatriya.’ They were both dressed in black combat uniforms with crimson sashes and turbans. They held longarms in a bored grip, on their belts were long, cruel looking knives with a noticeable bend halfway down the blade. ‘Kukris’, he thought they were called. As they drove up the off-ramp one of them held up his hand, indicating for them to stop. Wentworth and Raxx brought their vehicles to a halt a short distance from the dragon’s teeth, and Vince got out to sort out their entrance.
While Vince spoke with the Kshatriya, Wentworth continued to examine them. They didn’t move with any sort of military bearing he could recognize, though it was clear that they had a rank structure. A third Kshatriya had exited the shack to speak with Vince, and this one had gold markings sewn into his sash. Though he couldn’t interpret them, Wentworth guessed this made him the commander.
The way they held their rifles wasn’t overly impressive. They probably knew how to use them but they didn’t seem particularly threatening or hostile — just bored. Then again, Wentworth couldn’t blame them. It was both cold and humid, with a painfully bright sun. He knew from experience how tedious guard duty could be, especially with bad weather.
They all sported facial hair, though the younger two’s beards were patchy, but what really struck Wentworth was their skin colour. It was a ruddy brown, with an almost orange quality to it. He’d never seen anything like it, not in the history vids or anywhere else. At first he thought it might have been reflected light from their crimson sashes and turbans, then he wondered if it might be some sort of paint, but neither seemed to be the case. Mentally he shrugged his shoulders; maybe they just had too much carotene in their diet. Either way they seemed healthy enough.
While he was thinking this, one of the younger Kshatriyas had been examining his motorcycle. “Hey,” he asked, “that’s some steed you’ve got there. What do you call it?”
“Call it?”
“Yeah, man, I’ve never seen one of those before.”
“Oh. It’s called a motorcycle. It’s pretty good fuel wise, I hardly ever need to fill the tank, but you can’t haul much.”
“Jeez, that’s what they got out in Steeltown, ain’t it?”
Wentworth shrugged. “Couldn’t say; I got mine out east.”
Before the conversation could continue Vince and the Sergeant finished their business. “Alright lads, we’re good to go,” said Vince, getting into the truck.
The Sergeant walked over in between the two vehicles so that he could address both Wentworth and Raxx at the same time. “Alright, I’m going to get you guys just to pull these vehicles into the parking compound down the road on your left as soon as you go in the gate. Any motorized transport is prohibited in Mississauga, so you’re going to be foot-bound until you leave. Don’t worry about security, we take care of that. All the merchants use the lot for storing cargo. Vince here knows the drill. Just make sure you go down to the far end, all motorized transport has to go down there, ya got that?” They both nodded, “Alright. There’s no smoking or drinking in Sauga, except in the visitor’s quarters, south-west corner of the Erin Mills Centre, and the Hospital grounds are off limits unless if you’re one of the Brahmin, a patient, or a guest. Rajah, get the dragon’s teeth. Sunoco, the gate.” He looked back over to the two drivers. “Enjoy your stay, gentlemen.”
Chapter 30
Two days later Wentworth was feeling pleasantly bored. He was sitting at a bar’s patio with his feet up, sipping on an imported brew, while the light from the sun played across his legs, warming them despite the nippy air.
Mississauga was known for two things: having the largest market east of Petrolia, and the best medical technology anyone knew of. The Brahmin’s administered the latter, treating patients as well as exporting medicines and physicians, while the former was kept secure by the large force of Kshatriyas who guarded against theft and violence. A patrol was maintained on the parking lot where they’d left their vehicles, along with a number of other caravans. There were even a few other motor vehicles present. After they finished helping Vince set up his booth in the Erin Mills marketplace Raxx and Wentworth were free to roam. There was no need to guard his booth as they had in the smaller towns.
The Erin Mills Centre was a massive concrete building two stories high and half a kilometre long. As they’d entered the gate it had stood majestically in the distance, three giant grey blocks connected by slightly smaller corridors, forming a flattened ‘T’. The interior was open and spacious with the occasional flower garden along the center of the pathway. Sunlight shone in from above through empty skylights; the interior was open to the elements. There were still puddles on the floor, evidence of the recent rainstorm. About half of the rooms bordering the pathway were occupied by permanent merchants and businesses, the others were empty, awaiting tenants. The sounds of humanity and the voices of merchants hawking their wares echoed through the corridor.
The steward came by and brought Wentworth a fresh beer. He nodded his thanks. The beer had an odd taste to it, almost spicy, with a full body; he liked it. The bar he was sitting at was set by the main thoroughfare, where it crossed a pair of service corridors; it looked like it had been a bar before the war. The furnishings were well made, and aged. From where he was sitting he could just make out the fountain plaza down towards the centre of the crossroads and watch the locals go about their business.
During their first day wandering the Centre Raxx had discovered a store selling scavenged tech, stuff that was still serviceable. He’d looked over the different items while excitedly talking to Wentworth about what they did and what they could be used for. He spoke without realizing he was going over the man’s head. He’d ended up buying a number of pieces and heading back to his truck to work on whatever it was that he was going to do with them.
Left on his own Wentworth had stuck to people watching, reading, with a bit of window shopping mixed in. The day before he’d spotted some items for sale in a weapons store and he’d returned the next morning with an empty duffle bag to purchase them. It was now full and under his table. The odd skin pigmentation he’d noticed earlier, while not universal, was prevalent amongst the Vedas. He also noticed that most of them were carrying Kukris, not just the Kshatriya. After thinking for a while he’d decided that this must be a cultural norm rather than an attempt at self-defence, given how few people were carrying sidearms
Aside from the shopkeepers — the Vaishyas — who were overly friendly, the locals ignored him. The culture here was not just unique, as Vince had suggested, but powerful as well. They had a strong identity. If you weren’t part of their family unit you just didn’t register with them. It wasn’t hostility, just indifference born out of a strong sense of self.
His meal arrived, causing him to reflect on the idiosyncrasies of the Vedic culture. While he’d picked out the Indian roots, the Vedas were clearly a postwar development. ‘Chicken Curry with Tomyum soup’ was just one example.