Long before Takato so much as registered it, Ryo picked out the black dot growing on the horizon as the approach of his digimon partner, and took out a card. "Speed percentage up... Card slash: High Speed Plug-In B."
"Huh?" asked Takato, confused.
Ryo clipped his D-Arc back onto his jeans. "He's coming," he assured the younger boy (in reality Takato was only almost three years younger than he was but Ryo just couldn't help but think of him as a boy), without even the shadow of a doubt so much as walking up to, let alone crossing his mind.
His confidence in Cyberdramon was not misplaced (as if it ever was). The perfect level digimon downright zoomed into their company before the one hundred or so head of cattle entrusted to their care had time to so much as acknowledge his presence. It was a bit of a relief, really; this year's stock had finally been starting to get pretty used to Cyberdramon and his dramatic entrances, but still, all it took was one cow to set the whole herd off.
"Well?" Ryo prompted him.
Cyberdramon regarded them evenly for a moment before speaking. "There are people around."
Takato brightened (to be entirely honest, Cyberdramon scared him more than a little), completely missing the emphasis on 'people'. "Oh, that's okay, 'kazu and Kenta are out on pliers, and Yamato and Taichi are on lines. They must have met."
There was something about the peculiar tilt to the corner of Cyberdramon's mouth – no, Ryo amended, maybe it was the way he was showing just the tip of a canine – that hinted vaguely at disdain for the younger boy. "Lots of people. Not anyone from the ranch. They seem to be led by a girl."
"A girl?" Takato repeated, dumbfounded. Usually the only girl they saw out here was Rosa, on the cattle drive to Abilene.
"Hm, trespassers," Ryo mused.
It was a bright enough day that when Cyberdramon held a claw up to the sun, the reflection blinded both of them for a moment. "Shall I?"
"No, I'm sure that won't be necessary," Ryo replied quickly, "and if it is I'll let you be the first person—" Takato glanced at him oddly. "—Takato, you know what I mean – I'll let you be the first person to know. Were they carrying guns, were they on horseback or anything?"
The perfect level digimon shook his head. "They were on foot with a handful of digimon. Some of them were carrying spears or green... club... things or things that looked like axes but with feathers; a few of them had digivices, that pathetic little toy you had when first we met. The leader was carrying one I've never seen before," he added, in a whisper only Ryo could manage to pick up.
"Northerners," Takato said, his eyes shining crimson with excitement.
"What are they doing this far south?" Ryo asked rhetorically, giving no indication he'd heard Cyberdramon's digital observation. "Takato, let's go check it out, eh?"
"Definitely," Takato replied, beaming. "Do you think they'll be savages? Do you think they'll speak the same language as us? Do you think—"
Ryo rolled his eyes, looking at Cyberdramon. "Where are they?"
"By the lake," Cyberdramon returned.
Guiding his horse with his knees to turn in the general direction of said lake, Ryo gestured forward. "Lead the way."
"Hang on," interrupted Takato, as Cyberdramon began to fly, "we can't all three of us go, who's going to look after the herd?"
After taking a moment to consider this moral dilemna, Ryo looked pointedly at Cyberdramon, who must have tried to raise an eyebrow at him or something before saying, "Me?"
"I think it would be best if we approach the Northerners," Ryo said carefully, "and I know you're more than capable of standing guard over a bunch of cows."
Cyberdramon sniffed, almost sounding offended. "Of course."
"Don't eat any, either," Ryo added as a precaution, before nudging his horse into a walk northeast. "We'll be seeing you."
"They don't taste the same," Cyberdramon called after them.
"He's weird," Takato remarked, once they were out of range of even Cyberdramon's keen ears.
"Look who's talking," Ryo replied with a smile.
"Hey!" protested Takato, laughing. Ryo laughed with him, and, unusually for Takato, they rode another couple of miles in silence.
"What do you think a good name for this digimon would be?" Takato asked after a while, holding up his sketchbook.
The way he managed to balance his sketchbook on the horn of his saddle well enough to draw when his horse was merely walking over fairly flat ground was a constant source of amazement for Ryo. He glanced over the doodle, which appeared to be a red fire-breathing dinosaur with triangles featuring heavily in its design. "Gee, I don't know, I Idolize Agumon-mon?"
"Oh, shut up," Takato retorted, grinning. "I think I'll call it... Guilmon."
"Weird name," the older man commented.
"Like your digimon's any less weird."
"Believe me, you haveno idea," Ryo sighed.
The younger boy soon had to put his sketchbook away, however, as the lake Mizuno Gorou claimed as part of Shibumi Cattle Company's property was on the other side of the hill to where they'd left Cyberdramon with the cattle. It was a pretty enough lake, a decent place for a swim in the summer, the only water for miles around, and therefore an important watering hole for the Shibumi herd, but Cyberdramon was right, that amount of people at the water's edge was odd. If the spears, clubs, and not quite axes Cyberdramon had mentioned weren't enough to peg them as Northerners, the dry grass (flax, Ryo vaguely remembered from the social studies lessons in the days when there was still a teacher in Abilene and he still went to school) skirts they were all wearing confirmed it. Takato blushed and averted his eyes when he realized that none of the women had their breasts covered, but Ryo was much more interested in the digimon he sensed before his D-Arc started flashing their presence, and in the new digivice the tribe's leader was supposedly carrying.
Their arrival could not have been any more conspicuous. As Ryo and Takato approached, muttering to their horses to stay calm, one of the men from the tribe gave a shot, and soon the men of the tribe were standing (well, more like half-squatting, if one was to describe it accurately) in a line in front of them, their backs straight and their legs a little more than shoulders' width apart. Takato squeaked (and quickly tried to pretend he had never so much as made a sound) when the tribesmen began to yell something in their Northern language at them, slapping their thighs and chests. Their widened eyes looked huge in their faces, and the amount of noise they were making seemed far greater than the amount of men actually present.
"I think it's a war dance," Ryo murmured, sounding far too calm (so Takato thought) about having come to this conclusion. Just to reassure himself, Takato put a hand on his gun holster, but as soon as they had finished, Ryo called out, "We mean you no harm."
They looked confused. Breaking formation, the men then formed a cluster around a blonde girl with a feathered cloak over her shoulders – and, Ryo was interested to pick out even at this distance, a strange-looking digivice clipped to the top of her skirt.
"Maybe they don't speak our language," Takato said quietly, sounding far less excited about this prospect now that they were seeing the Northerners in the flesh. "Do you think they'll attack us?"
Even if they did speak the language, Ryo thought, 'harm' might have been too vague a word. He attempted to simplify things for them. "We," he gestured at himself and Takato, "will not hurt you." He then pointed at the strangers.
After a moment of consultation (judging from the worried sounds the tribesmen of both genders were making), the girl Cyberdramon had assumed was their leader stepped forward, her people instantly parting to make a clear path for her to approach the two men. "We are not hurting you either."
"You speak the same language as us," Ryo said in surprise.
The girl (she must have been a few years younger than Takato) nodded. "My mother is coming from – how are you saying – your Eastend. But she is going back to the winds very many summers ago. I am not having anyone to speak with your tongue. I am being – what is the word being – sorry that my speak is being so very bad."
"It's not that bad," Takato said quickly, staring everywhere but at her cleavage (her cloak was almost, but not quite enough to make her look respectable by the standards of the rest of Server).
She laughed. "You are being flattering to me." Sobering quickly, she introduced herself. "My iwi is being of Rangi, my maunga is being Mikage, my awa is being Hama. My whanau is being Orimoto, my – how are you saying – grandfather – is being Hiroyuki, my grandmother is being Tohru, my father is being Hayato, my mother is being Aminta, I am being Izumi. I am being chief of Rangi – um – what is the word you are using being – tribe."
"I'm honored," Ryo replied, sorting through the information quickly and figuring out how best to respond. "Um, my iwi is – um, tauiwi, I think you call outsiders? My maunga is Infinity Mountain, my awa is the Dark River. My whanau is Akiyama, my grandfather is—" he hesitated, then decided to name his mother's side of the family, "Ilya, my grandmother is Svetlana, my father is Nibori, my mother is Isidora, and I am Ryo."
"Oh," said Takato, understanding at last. "My tribe is whatever Ryo said, my – I'm sorry, I can't say that word – my mountain is Spiral Mountain, my river is the Loop. My family is Matsuda, my grandfather is Tomo, my grandmother is Akane, my father is Takehiro, my mother is Yoshie, I'm Takato."
Izumi gave a little nod. "I would be having my people say themselves, but it would be taking all the sun and I am knowing you southerners are not liking to wait and listen very long. You are getting off your hoiho," she gestured at their horses, "and coming to walk with me?'
It was pronounced like a request, but as much as he knew Takato would be loathe to dismount Ema, Ryo also knew it would be far too rude of them to refuse. With a pointed glance at the younger boy, he slid from the saddle and walked on Izumi's right side, leaving Takato to scramble off his horse to catch up with them. "Our horses?" Ryo asked, indicating them to make sure the Northern chief understood. "You aren't going to steal them?"
The leader of Rangi shook her head. "My people are taking them to the roto – sorry, how are you saying – the lake and having them drink, then to have them eating."
"That means thehorses are eating, not you guys eating the horses, right?" Takato checked.
Ryo ignored him. "Thank you."
"It is being nothing," Izumi replied, before calling out a series of commands to her tribe. Immediately a couple of men sprang into action, dropping their spears and taking Ema and Loshad by the reins with surprising ease. Izumi then turned back to Ryo. "I am not being accustomed to seeing tauiwi on turangawaewae. Are you being on – how are you saying – a holiday?"
"Funny story about that, actually," Takato attempted.
"The thing is," Ryo interrupted, "it's actually your people who are on our land. This land is not part of the Northern Territories. You and your iwi are in what we call Westside."
Izumi bowed her head somewhat. "I am not knowing. Your people are expecting the tangata whenua to be knowing where all their not seen lines are lying. Although I am thinking it is being too warm here for this time of the moon."
Ryo nodded. "I hate to tell you this, but your iwi is trespassing." The chief looked rather blank, so Ryo explained further. "This land is owned by a man named Mizuno Gorou, and he doesn't allow strangers on his land."
"How is a man owning the earth?" Izumi mused. "If anything, Rangi is owning us."
She must have meant the god of the earth, Ryo guessed. "That may be so," he replied, "but Mizuno would have us kill you for being on his land."
Her eyes flashed angrily. "We are not being ready to be going back to the winds. If you are trying to kill us, I will be fighting, Rangi will be fighting, the digimon will be fighting."
"Oh, believe me, we'd all much rather it didn't come to that," Ryo said quickly.
As quickly as her anger suddenly flared up, it seemed it was blown away by the wind. "We are meaning to be staying here in Tahiroto."
"Tahiroto?" Takato repeated blankly.
"It is being what we are naming this land," Izumi informed him. "It is meaning one lake. We are not seeing any more – how are you saying – water."
"Ah," said Takato, enlightened.
"It is one of the precious few static sources of water in Westside," Ryo admitted. "Izumi, how much water would Rangi use?"
Her brow furrowed in thought. "We are using enough for our people to live, but we are leaving many for the... I am not knowing the name." She lifted her hands to either side of her head. "Moo!"
"Cows," Ryo told her.
She nodded. "Are the... kaus being owned by your Mizuno also?"
"Yeah, we're in charge of looking after most of them," Ryo replied. "I'll tell you what, Izumi, we'll let you stay here." Takato sent him a shocked and questioning look which he ignored. "We simply won't tell Mizuno you and your people are on his land."
"You are wanting something from me," she said, frowning at him with suspicion painting her pretty features.
"Oh, you caught me," Ryo smiled. "I was wondering if I could take a look at that digivice of yours, actually."
"Digivice?" Izumi repeated, confused.
"That thing." Ryo pointed at the device on her skirt. "I've never seen one like it before."
The Northern chief smiled, handing him her digivice. "I am being given this by a girl who is coming from Eastend. She is naming it D-Scanner."
"Interesting," Ryo murmured, turning the digivice over and examining it close up.
Takato sighed. "You are such a nerd."
"So where's your digimon," Ryo asked, choosing to ignore this remark, "I didn't really think it was the Gabumon and the Gizamon just didn't seem your type."
She laughed, but sounded rather uncomfortable. "Actually... I am being digimon. The D-Scanner is helping me to focus my spirit."
"What?" Ryo and Takato demanded.
-
Jenrya yawned as he trimmed Terriermon's claws. "Thanks for helping out during the whole Lucky Mouse mess. I'm glad the attacks have started to slow down after the tracer got fixed."
"I'm kind of worried, actually," Donna replied, collecting the clippings in a small zip lock plastic bag. "Either the tracer's still stuffed up—"
"It's all back to the original programming," Jenrya objected.
Donna ignored this interruption. "—or it must be a calm before the storm sort of thing."
Terriermon snorted. "You're almost as optimistic as Ryuudamon is."
"Thanks," Donna replied wryly. "Seriously, though, doesn't it worry you at all?"
"Momentai," answered Terriermon. "It's a bit of a break. We're not getting dragged out every fifteen minutes when we're on call. I'm happy. Heck, I feel we've earned this."
"I concur," Jenrya agreed, putting the nail file away. "Great minds think alike."
Stretching, Terriermon flexed his paws. "Oh, that feels better. Any longer and I would've needed a scratching post like a Tailmon, or a cat."
"That should be enough to get your DDNA," Donna smiled, "though I wonder if I should have gotten it from you at your adult level, considering Turuiemon's usually a digivolution of Lopmon..."
The child groaned. "I am so not in the mood to digivolve."
"Fair enough," Donna acknowledged. "It shouldn't take me more than a few days to track down Lopmon with this, once I code it into the scanner."
"What do you use, anyway?" Jenrya inquired. "I've only seen your computers around, it doesn't look like you have any of the generators or satellite dishes that Hypnos works with."
The private investigator looked at him sideways. "Believe me, you really don't want to know."
As he stood and waited for Terriermon to clamber onto his shoulder, Jenrya rolled his eyes. "This isn't entirely legal, is it."
He didn't even need a question mark, he was that confident – and correct – in the answer. Donna grinned. "No, not really. You're going to be a good little Digital Accidents boy and turn me in, now, aren't you?"
The Digital Accidents Tactics Squad agent shook his head. "You're helping me find Shuichon. That's a good enough defense in my eyes."