She looked at the men impatiently, as if they were particularly dense. "Because I think there's a lot of anger people are bottling up that's getting in the way of… other things."
"Jesus Christ." Feelings. Women wouldn't let them lie.
Raven said nothing.
"For example," Amaya persisted, "your anger toward Raven."
He glanced at her. "It's not me who is angry with her."
"Isn't it? You blame her for putting you here, Daniel. You don't really trust her. But she's right. We came here ourselves."
"Amaya…" Ethan objected.
"And Raven's angry with you. If you hadn't been so damned… attractive"-she said it with exasperation- "she'd never have gotten confused about what she was doing, and never been assigned to Australia. And then you throw away her means of escape! I think you were trying to punish her."
"I was trying to get away from this Ico you want me to forgive and who was coming at me with a sword!" His look was stubborn. "I'm just trying to let Raven experience what she sends other people to."
"No. You're in love with her and couldn't stand to have her leave you."
"You don't know that!"
"And she was so guilty about sending you here that she came herself."
"Amaya," Raven groaned.
"We're not going to get comfortable until everyone sorts their feelings out."
"Well, you're certainly getting your feelings out," Daniel grumped. He turned to Raven. "Is that true?"
She looked embarrassed. "I'm here on a mission. Don't flatter yourself."
"Why didn't you tell me things from the beginning?"
Her look was sullen. "Because you wouldn't understand. You couldn't handle the truth of things. You still can't."
"What does that mean?"
She looked away. He knew what it meant.
"You're just so damn difficult to talk to half the time…"
Raven was suddenly furious. "Only because you won't listen!" She glared at the group. "Did it ever occur to any of you that maybe I tried to save him when he wouldn't save himself- that he didn't listen to me- and that I never expected to have to deal with all of you when I came out here? I'm just trying to get back!"
Daniel scoffed. "Save me? How about making a damn fool out of me?"
She glared at him, wounded and in pain. Then she sprang up and bolted into the bush.
The men were uncomfortably silent for a moment.
"Go after her, you dolt," Amaya finally advised, quietly, sadly. He looked up at her and, for just a moment, a look of longing flickered in her eyes. "Forgive her. Forgive yourself. And move on to what you're meant to do."
Dusk was falling as Daniel followed Raven as he'd once followed her running down an urban street. It was easy to track her now: a sandy footprint here, a broken twig there. She was climbing up the ridge they'd been following, making for a rocky outcrop that would provide a view in every direction. He half trotted to catch up with her, breathing anxiously, the oily perfume of Australia beguiling as he sucked it into his lungs.
He saw her form ahead like a slim phantom, disappearing in the shadow of an overhang and then rematerializing as a silhouette along the crest of the ridge. Rocks skittered out from the feet of both of them and she heard him once and turned. But she didn't stop and didn't call, just kept moving upward, as elusive as hope.
The sky was a vast blue bowl, its color deepening with approaching night. Australia lay around them in a shadowy panorama, its reds having faded to cobalt. There were no lights, no roads, no memory of civilization. It was the dawn of time. The crest of the ridge was a dragon's back, a series of short pinnacles like the plates of a dinosaur. For a moment he thought he'd missed her in the shadow of one, or that to avoid him she'd doubled back and slipped down to camp. But then he saw her ahead at the uppermost peak, alone under the first stars.
She was sitting hunched, knees pulled up to her chest, on a shelf of time-smoothed rock that was slick but dry and still radiating heat from the day's sun. A full moon was cresting the horizon. It was orange and huge, an autumn lantern, and it threw enough warm light to illuminate the profile of her body and the architecture of her face. Her features had the same polished fineness of the rock, immaculate and tan, her eyes large and dark as she looked sorrowfully out across the grass and scrub plain. Her back was bent, the pattern of her spine visible against the tightness of her tattered cotton shirt, and her breasts swelled where they were pushed against her thighs, her slim arms holding her knees. Her black hair was tied with the scrap of a leather shoelace to fall toward her waist. A withered flower she'd picked earlier in the day was still tucked into the knot. She was the most beautiful creature Daniel had ever seen, a nemesis who was vulnerable, lonely.
She heard his footsteps behind her. "Go away."
He ignored that, kneeling at her back.
"Please, just leave me alone," she said wearily. "It's too hard."
He touched her shoulders.
She stiffened. "Daniel, just let it be!"
He ignored her protests. He held her by her shoulders and bent to kiss her rigid cheek, wet with tears. Then her neck, and then he let his lips drift up to her ear. "Amaya's right. I think I do love you, Raven," he whispered.
"Daniel…" she groaned.
"I'm sorry I haven't said it. I was angry, because it's true I came to Australia because of you. But not because you tricked me. That's what I've been thinking about, and what I've had to admit to myself. It was because you were the one thing in life I could decide I wanted, after a lifetime of not knowing what to want. So I came to the Outback on a million to one shot that I'd find you and somehow break through to you- that I could somehow convince you to love me like I love you."
He kissed her cheek and then her neck, again, and again, descending to her shoulder.
She remained rigid. "You can't. You can't convince me."
He stopped, and took a breath, determined now. "I came because there was something in you that hit me with instant recognition when I met you, some part of you that I recognized in myself. I knew you, Raven. Or I'm going to know you. In some past life or some future one. That's what I thought way back in the city. I couldn't forget you. The only reason I haven't been able to forgive you is because I couldn't forgive myself. I couldn't forgive wasting so much of my life, going after the wrong things. I blamed you for me. But when I climb up these rocks and look out at the wilderness in all its timeless size and beauty, I realize how conceited such unforgiveness is. We're both so microscopic. We counted for nothing at United Corporations and we count for nothing here. We're nothing- except to each other. To each other, we count for everything."
He reached up to touch her face and turn her to him, her eyes wet, bending to kiss her fully on the lips.
And then she thrust him away. "No. Don't do this to me."
"Raven…"
"I count for something, Daniel. I count in that world because I believe in it. You're a dangerous man, Daniel Dyson, dangerous to them and dangerous to me. So I'm going to leave you here, abandon you in Australia, while I go back and let them decide what your fate should be."
"They put you here. They don't deserve your loyalty!"
"And I don't deserve yours. Please don't complicate things with this love of yours. Because I don't need it. I don't need it from anyone."
"You know you do…"
She rolled away from him and kneeled, looking at him intently. "Look. I need you to help get me out from under the Cone. Do that first. Do that for me. And then I'll decide where to go, or what to do, or how to live my life. Then, and only then, when I have a true choice, am I going to decide my why."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
As the land grew more hospitable, the fugitives began to encounter ruins that seemed both reassuring and disturbing. The decaying structures proved that humans had lived here, and presumably could again. They also warned of the impermanence of existence. People had not just lived here, but lived in comfort, with machines and full pantries and regular mail. Now they were gone, their memories weeded over.