That would have to wait.
She punched Kahn’s code into her wristcom. “Sergeant, as soon as communications with Port Central are reestablished, I want you to request Nyo for satellite tracking of hostiles, estimated number one hundred twenty, last known position at the relay last night during the storm, and heading north. Estimated speed fifteen kilometers per hour. And advise Sigrid that weather information now has top, repeat, top priority.”
She hit OFF. “Now,” she said, turning to Marghe, “I want you to tell me, as plainly as possible, what has happened to you since you left here and why you’re here now, while we walk over to see how Letitia is doing.”
“Part of the message was missing…” Danner stopped five feet away from the closed flap of the hospital tent, Marghe watched understanding flatten the Mirror’s expression, bring a flush to her cheeks. “You mean all this”—Danner waved at the sleds, the stretchers leaning drunkenly against the walls—“all this was a mistake?”
“Yes. But not my mistake.”
Hiam stepped out of the tent, wiping her hands on her bloody whites. “What mistake?”
Danner ignored her. “Whose, then? You were the one who deliberately stopped taking the stuff. You. No one else.”
“I don’t understand,” Hiam said, looking from one to the other. “Are you talking about the FN-17?”
“Yes,” Marghe said tiredly. “How’s Letitia?”
“She’s stable. Tell me about the FN-17.” Hiam was very still, very white. Marghe knew this was going to be hard.
“The FN-17 worked. Or at least, it worked as long as I took it.”
“But you said, your message said…” Hiam looked from one to the other. “I don’t understand.”
”The message that reached Danner wasn’t complete. The part that was missing explained that I’d chosen to stop taking the vaccine.”
“But why?”
Marghe wondered how long it would take for Sara’s puzzlement to turn to anger.
“I was alone in Ollfoss, with about thirty days’ worth of vaccine left, facing a journey to Port Central that would take longer than that, if it was possible at all, which it wasn’t.”
“If you hadn’t insisted on going there in the first place, this wouldn’t have come up.” Danner’s voice was shaking.“But no, you had to go galloping off there in the dead of winter.”
“If I was going to learn anything, I had to go north. And it had to be winter: I only had six months.” That all seemed so long ago. Blame Company, she wanted to say.
If they hadn’t landed me in autumn, I wouldn’t have had to go up there in the harshest season. But she said nothing. Danner knew all this, or ought to.
“But you could have kept taking it,” Hiam said. “To see. You could have kept taking it.”
“No. Thenike told me—”
“Thenike?”
“My partner. She said the adjuvants were poisoning me, that—”
“What does a savage know about adjuvants?”
“That ‘savage’ is my partner.” She spoke very softly. “And she knew enough to save Letitia’s life.” There was a small silence while Hiam opened her mouth to argue, then closed it, and Danner slapped her gauntlets against her thigh, over and over.
“Thenike said the adjuvants were making my body weak. And I needed to be as strong as I could be, to make sure that the virus, when it came, didn’t kill me.”
Danner stopped slapping. “It wouldn’t have come if you’d taken the damn vaccine.”
Marghe did not bother to answer that. “Sara, for you it was months of hard work—”
“Years.”
“Years, then. For me it was my life. But it worked, Sara. It worked.”
“Yes,” Sara said bitterly. “And that does us a lot of good now. Shall I call the Kurst tomorrow, and tell them? No? No. Because they wouldn’t believe me.
Because their spy has already told them it doesn’t work, and I’m down here.
Contaminated.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” She laughed, a sharp bark. “So am I.” She lifted the hospital flap to go back in. “Tomorrow, when I’ve more time, I want you to tell me everything. About the vaccine, the virus, your pregnancy, everything.”
It was evening, and Marghe was leaning against a fencepost, watching the Singing Pasture horses, when Thenike joined her.
“You look tired,” Marghe said. “How’s Letitia now?”
Thenike slid an arm round Marghe’s waist and leaned her cheek on Marghe’s shoulder. “Steadier. She’s strong, and the doctor knows well enough what to do.”
Thenike’s bare skin felt cool; the night was warm and soft. A fly buzzed nearby.
“And you?”
“Angry,” They called you savage. “At Danner, at Hiam. At whatever disturbed those message stones,” Nothing she could do about that now. She let her breath go in a rush, “Danner’s going to be even angrier when she hears our idea.”
“What do the others make of it—Cassil, Holle, T’orre Na?”
“I don’t know yet. I wanted us both to speak to them, together. They’re waiting.”
But neither of them moved for a while; the night was soft and spicy and peaceful, and the talking that lay ahead would go on until morning. They watched the horses flicking their tails at the flies.
The late afternoon sun was a hot, orangey red, and the shadows of the seven women were beginning to lengthen. Danner stared at the other six one by one, at Cassil and T’orre Na, at Day and the one from Singing Pastures, Holle, at Marghe and Thenike. She could not believe what she was hearing.
“Let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” she said. “These tribeswomen have driven Holle and her kin from their land and slaughtered half their herds. They’ve butchered eleven of my best people for no reason that makes any sense to me, despite what you’ve been saying, and maybe taken one hostage. Now they’re on their way here to wreak god knows what havoc upon us all. And you want to send Marghe here, and Thenike, unarmed, to talk to them.”
No one said anything.
Danner wanted to put them all in a bag and shake them. She turned to Marghe.
“Do you want to get yourself killed?”
“You’ve accused me of suicidal tendencies before, and been wrong.”
“But not by much! Look at yourself, for pity’s sake: fingers missing, scarred, wearing rags. By your own admission you nearly died at the hands of these same…
tribeswomen.”
“There’s no other real choice.”
“There is!”
Danner looked to Day in mute appeal, but the ex-Mirror shook her head. “I think she’s right, Commander.”
Danner would not accept that. “Look. Just wait until tomorrow. Until midday tomorrow. Nyo should be here by then. She thinks she can find a way to stop a storm disrupting our weaponry. Then we can escort you to this Uaithne, protect you. You can talk to her all you want from behind an armored skirmish line.”
Maighe shook her head. “That’s the worst thing we could do. Danner, I know these people. Or what they’ve become. They don’t think the way we do—they never did. And now that they’re behind Uaithne, they’ve become unreachable. They’re living a legend, can’t you see that? They’ve given something up, call it a sense of reality, to live inside something Uaithne has created. They no longer think of themselves as individuals; they’re just the followers of the Death Spirit. They don’t care about dying—in fact, they’d welcome death.”
Danner shook her head in denial.
Marghe thrust her left hand under Danner’s nose. “Look at that, Danner. That hurt. For months I was cold, hungry, treated like an animal. I nearly gave up, laid down, and died. The snow up there does something to you. I’ve lived there. I know what it’s like. They know they can’t survive. They’re not stupid. Every year fewer and fewer children survive into adulthood. There’s more and more deficiency disease. They’re dying, their way of life is dying. They know that. But what they can’t conceive of is that it’s possible to live another way. They live inside themselves in a way it’s almost impossible to understand. So now along comes Uaithne, who says, I’m the Death Spirit, death is glory! And they see a way to make it all good again. To die. To kill others.”