Traveller Probo

With his team sent, Osborne wandered the Turkish Transporter facility and reluctantly accepted the congratulations of the many important officials he encountered. After the struggle to have the team trained how and where he knew best, any differences were forgotten as all bathed in the glory of Byzantium Traveller. His men were now safely a thousand years into the past and making their way into the great city of Constantinople without incident.

Now he was everyone’s friend. The team were heroes of the Turkish people and the world couldn’t get enough information about the Traveller project. Yet Osborne loathed celebrity, hating the term. He had always taken great pride in his role as a member of the Australian Special Forces, so to be thrust into the public limelight was contrary to everything he had ever wanted.

After making the rounds to thank everyone involved, from politicians and generals to the cleaners and guards, he finally made his way to Chuck, who stood by the Area of Convergence. “How’s it all going Chuck?” asked Osborne in Turkish.

The reply was enthusiastic. “It’s a bloody beauty. Looks like the men have made contact with a merchant and are now travelling to the city. We expect their safe arrival within the day.”

Osborne smiled in relief. “This system seems to be better than ours was in Saxon Aengland. Having a support team on the ground certainly takes away a lot of worries.”

Professor Askar nodded in agreement. “Lieutenant McFee seems happy with their progress so far.”

Chuck nodded, then turned and gave a feral grin. “Ozzie, we don’t need you looking over our shoulders though. Why don’t you bugger off for the afternoon? We’re on this and I know you’ve hardly slept for the last couple of nights.”

“Yeah, that’s fine Chuck but what can I do? I can’t sleep now, I’m too wired,” he replied.

“Go on, blow off some steam,” added Chuck with a smile. “Go and have a horse ride, of something. Try out that ranch, you know, the one just out of the city.”

“But I need to be here Chuck,” argued Osborne gently.

“Oh that’s bullshit and you know it. I’ve got first watch,” replied the trainer with a smile. “Get Princess Prudence to fly you. It’ll only be a few minutes and, if anything needs your attention, we have these magical devices called mobile phones. I can call you and you can be back in a mo’.”

Osborne paused a moment and frowned, “You know Chuck, that sounds like a good idea. I don’t know why everyone says you’re so dumb.”

Chuck gave a small smile and an imperious wave. “Yeah, piss off. You’re annoying me.”

Osborne made his way to the chopper where Captain Kartal and Deniz waited in a makeshift pilot’s lounge. As Osborne arrived they looked up in surprise, expecting him to stay for the afternoon. “I’ve got an important mission for you two,” he declared with a smile.

***

Osborne paused to look at the view and Captain Kartal stopped beside him. They had flown half an hour to the north to find the ranch where they could ride without having to wait for a guide. He wanted to get away, to hell with the cost, and invited his Turkish pilots to join him. Deniz waved aside the offer, opting instead to grab a meal and leave Osborne and Captain Kartal to it.

The mysterious Captain Kartal was, without a doubt, in love with horse riding. Her childlike delight was infectious and she cooed as she hugged her docile little mare. For Osborne, their mounts were too placid but at least he was in the saddle. Besides, he found himself taking some enjoyment from Captain Kartal’s obvious enchantment.

At first they rode in silence, other than Captain Kartal’s soft words to her horse. As the rhythm of their mounts and the silence of the surrounding countryside settled in, the normally frosty pilot gradually made conversation. It was the usual stuff. She asked Osborne when he had learned to ride horses, about childhood on a cattle station in Australia, and his life as a soldier. Osborne was surprised, not only at her curiosity but that she was gradually drawing him out to speak about himself. Never a conversationalist, Osborne realised he had been chatting for well over an hour.

The only other time he had spoken so much was with his therapist.

What had once been awkward was now natural, even pleasant. Every now and then, Osborne would offer advice on how to ride, for Captain Kartal would squeal and laugh whenever her mount would canter or gallop. By the end of their ride they had dropped formalities. At the lookout Osborne smiled when she addressed him as Captain Osborne. “You know, now we’re riding together, maybe you don’t have to call me Captain Osborne all the time.”

She frowned and then nodded with a slight blush on her cheeks. “So what is your name?”

“Well, you know what the forces are like,” laughed Osborne. I’ve been known as Ozzie or Osborne since I was a kid. But my name is Tony. Any of those will be fine.”

“Tony or Ozzie,” she mouthed the words as she frowned. “Tony is good. Does anyone call you Tony?” she asked.

Osborne smiled in fascination at the shape of her lips and small crease between her eyebrows as she formed his name. She looked up with her green eyes, so Osborne quickly looked away, afraid he had been caught staring. He smiled to himself. “Tony will be fine,” he nodded. “No one calls me that.”

“Then you can call me Nuray,” she replied formally.

Osborne reached across with his hand and shook hers, “Nice to meet you Nuray.”

She looked at him with a frown and gave a small laugh, as if he was crazy.

Back at the stables, they gave the horses a brush and Osborne showed Nuray how to help the horses recover from their ride. They rewarded the horses with pieces of carrot and turnip. Nuray gave a shout of delight every time the velvety soft lips of her horse fed from her outstretched hand.

Osborne became entranced by how the afternoon sunlight brought out the highlights in her hair. But when she turned to smile at him, he looked away, embarrassed and confused. To make matters worse, the wife of the property-owner beamed knowingly, which had the mortified Osborne flush a deeper red.

Later, in the chopper back to Istanbul, Nuray was once again Captain Kartal. She looked back at Osborne and formally said, “Thank you again Captain. That was a most enjoyable afternoon.”

Osborne returned to find Hami with Chuck at the computers. “Yeah mate, our lads have been domiciled into a warehouse they reckon is good enough,” reported Chuck, “though McFee says the place stinks because it’s right by the leather curing pools. He says he wishes he could gift us with smellavision but we have you, that’s enough smell for anyone.”

Osborne gave a grunt of amusement. “So, Hami, are you taking over?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “even though our blokes will be asleep. They had a recce and plan to get some exploring done tomorrow. I expect I’ll end up listening to them snoring and farting.”

“Someone’s gotta do it Hami. It’s your turn to take one for the team,” smiled Osborne.

“Talk about taking one for the team, how was your afternoon?” asked Chuck. “Did you get that ride in?”

“Yeah I did, thanks,” Osborne replied. “We found a decent ranch. I bloody well needed it.”

“What, you and Princess Prudence and Deniz?” asked Chuck as he watched the screen as some footage revealed the primitive accommodation the Travellers were to use for the night.

“Nah, Deniz took a rain check. Just me and Captain Kartal,” responded Osborne without a thought.

Chuck chuckled as he replied, “Well that’d be a fun afternoon, stuck in the wilds with Princess Prudence. Seems like you did take one for the team. That would have been the shittest day.”

Osborne grunted and, as he turned to leave, he caught a glance from Hami. The canny New Zealander said nothing, though his expression spoke volumes.