Storytime again, chapter 1

1 The first man lay on the ground, naked, burnt. Had his clothes been burnt off him? He shivered, his skin was raw and red but the burning was not that serious, more of a case of heavy sunburn than a true burn of fire. How did he know this? Where was he? More to the point - Who was he? I am grown, that much he knew from his size, but his mind ….. Like a child. He knew hunger, cold, instinct ….. But no KNOWLEDGE. Rising, he staggered a few steps, feet hurting on the sharp stones in the few grasses. I’m not used to the nakedness then he thought. Instinct told him to seek shelter. People. WATER. He ran to a small rivulet of water and drank copiously, splashing his red skin, finally sitting, lying in the cooling bliss. He rose as his burn heated body cooled to cold. He ran, not caring his feet were becoming raw from unaccustomed abrasion, he needed HELP and fast. He was seen coming from the distance still at a run, but stumbling as if in exhaustion. Two from the camp rushed out to help the naked runner whilst the rest watched from the arched entrance in avid curiosity. The man was helped to a platform at the Healer's Hearth, and Dammi set about washing and covering him with cooling salves. The feet were raw, to be expected if he had run from the river over the stones. They would heal fast enough. He had said nothing more than ‘thank you, thank you’ in a totally unknown tongue before he had fallen into exhausted sleep. They decided to call him Petros, for he had appeared from the stony place on the edge of the flood plain. ********************************************** The two found the second naked figure actually within their secret laboratory. They called it secret because none but they were allowed access, and they guarded the contents more than jealously, paranoid in the extreme. Their project would alter the course of the war they said, no news of it must leak to stray ears. No cleaners were allowed, robot drones cleaned ceaselessly in random motion. Assuming finally that the man had come from the same place as them; well, no one on this world had the skill to breach their security, they assured him he was of their own and had lost his memory in the biggest explosion the lab had seen. They were sorry he could not remember exactly how he had produced the explosion, for they would have to be even more vigilant themselves not to reproduce it. Never mind not remembering that, he finally spoke when his burns had been treated - exactly who was he was more important! They said he was called Dave, David Grey, a scientist of high calibre. Or at least he had been ….. And his language WAS theirs, not of this world …..