The next morning Theo and Bets head downhill into the trees, a light snow falling. None of us want to consider what will happen if the flakes intensify into another storm. When the duo returns, I’ll relieve one of them. That way, one of us will always be fairly fresh. Theo’s the strongest and knows we all depend on him to carry the most heavy — and critical — materials up the grueling mountain face. Luckily, we’ve all adjusted to the thin air. Our regular sojourns into the wilderness, struggling through the ubiquitous snow, have prepared us for this effort.
It’s early afternoon and the sun’s returned. If all went well, Bets and Theo should arrive with the first load of supplies within the hour. Gorian’s standing watch, gazing out the front window for any sign of their return. I found some parchment in a desk and have been drawing pictures, a pastime I abandoned years ago when the gardens consumed me. I’m sketching a picture of Eliza — the way I imagine she’d look now — when Gorian whoops. “They’re back and loaded.”
Bets and Theo pull off their coverings and set them to dry by the fire. Theo carefully removes a small cylinder from his sack. “That’s it,” Gorian exclaims. “Iggy, do you feel up to helping me harness the power cell?”
“I’ll do what I can Gorian.” Iggy slogs over to the table.
“Marksman, you and I are next,” Bets mutters while eating a piece of bread.
I’m dreading this trip. The discomfort of the physical exhaustion will be no match to the cold chill coming from that woman. Our job will be to collect all of the charges in the shuttle. They’re similar to Troll’s concussion grenades but far more powerful. Gorian will be able to detonate them from her tablet computer. We’ll set them in strategic locations along the perimeter. If Thresh’s forces attack, the charges should corral them in open areas, allowing us to attack the creatures more efficiently.
Gorian’s finishes her meager lunch and suits up for another excursion. I’m wearing one of Gorian’s uniforms, with fur layered above. My favorite waxed, leather cloak from Flip’s mother is wrapped over all of my ensemble to keep back the wind and moisture. I follow Gorian out the door.
Late afternoon shadows appear. “We’ll have to move fast to beat the dark,” Bets mutters dejectedly, almost as if she’s speaking to herself. She clearly resents me for having to trudge back out into the cold air.
A twig deep within me snaps. My skin warms with rage, suppressed for too long. “Bets, enough of this. Your brooding has got to stop, for all of our sakes. Just leave us. We can fare on our own. If you travel lightly, you’ll be back to the coast in a week’s time.”
She stops, drops her sack, and turns to me, her eyes blazing. “You ungrateful wench. All that I’ve done for you and you tell me to leave. I have nothing to go back to because of you.”
“This is really about Theo, isn’t it? Bets, I’m married. I love Wenn and will never betray him, even if we never set eyes on each other again.”
“You may think you feel that way, but I see you two. Theo loves you Amy. And you love him too. It’s more upsetting to see you lying to each other than to have you get it over with.”
“It’ll never happen Bets. I know you fancy him and he’s not responding. What can I do about that?”
Bets picks up her sack. “Come on. We’re losing daylight.”
Theo and Bets have beaten an impressive trail down to the shuttle. Travel goes easily, although it’s spent in sullen silence. The shuttle’s barely visible under a gargantuan drift — a small tunnel carved by Theo and Bets leads to the hatch. Bets pauses before crawling in. “Be careful. That tree’s still overhead and may fall.”
“Thanks Bets.” I say cautiously. It would be awful to freeze to death, trapped in that cramped, artificial space.
The interior of the shuttle’s nearly unrecognizable. Some animal used it as a nest — leaves, twigs, fur, and scat are littered everywhere. A musky, cloying funk clings to us. “You don’t get used to the smell, Amy. I think something died here, but I can’t find it. Let’s gather the goods and get out.”
I think of the magnificent cities of our ancestors, overtaken by nature. I imagined it’d take years for decay to set in. The shuttle’s dilapidated condition shows me that earth can consume even the most foreign and formidable things in no time at all.
We gather the explosives from small crates in the back half of the broken vessel. I’m careful about sticking my hands into the dark recesses without shining a light there first. There’s no telling what might bite off a chunk of my finger. I wonder whether the shuttle harbors pests from other worlds — not just from earth.
With our packs brimming with deadly munitions, we crawl out into the bitter night, dark moths emerging from a white cocoon. We illuminate our path with tiny head lamps. Even with the bright bluish-white light, the path’s difficult to differentiate from the pale snow and ice reflecting back at us. I slip and Bets stoops down to help me. “Thanks” I say. “About earlier—”
“You’re right Marksman. It’s my problem and I’ve no business dragging you into it. Theo saved me many years ago. At first, it was loyalty and then it turned into something else. I’m a strong girl — way past time for me to shake it off. I respect your position.”
We struggle up the path, our breath escaping in billows of steam. Sweat sops my skin under my cloak. I want to shed my wrap, but know that I’d freeze for certain. We’ve only a mile to go when I sense a caribou watching us from the trees. I’m most certainly conscious, but I see us from its vantage. “That’s odd,” I huff.
“What?” Bets stops and sets down her pack. She’s exhausted.
“See that caribou over in the distance?”
She squints and then shines her light into the forest. “Barely.” The beast doesn’t move, but the light blinds me.
“Ow, stop shining that light at us.”
“Are you telling me that you can occupy that buck?”
“Yes, and this may be helpful.” I coax the creature to us. He stops, calm as the winter air. The heat and musk radiating from his body’s intoxicating. “Here, put your sack on him.”
“Gladly.”
I do the same and the three of us make good time up the remainder of the path.
As we crest the ridge, our lights are no longer needed. Two lamps glow on the sign outside the lodge. A few of the building’s windows burn with cold, artificial light. “Looks as if Gorian’s tapped into the power source,” Bets says.
Neither of us is overjoyed.
Gorian’s belly seems to have expanded in the last few hours. “Welcome back ladies. What do you have for me?”
We unload our sacks to Gorian’s mounting joy. The building’s warm, with hot air blowing out of holes in the floor. Iggy’s sitting in the corner, very still. His skin’s slicker than usual. Gorian notices our concerned looks. “Iggy’s gone into a torpor — a deep sleep. I wore him out today. We just need to keep him moist and he’ll survive. Iggy doesn’t need to eat in that condition. However, he’s quite worthless to us, except maybe as a footstool.”
Theo appears from the lodge’s kitchen. “Hey you two. You seem hearty — what’s your secret?”
Bets and I exchange knowing glances. We’ll tell him tomorrow. My bond with the buck is different than that with the magpie. I feel him constantly — the sensation is not one of dominance but of collaboration. He’s willing to help us and I am grateful.
Morning arrives too quickly. Theo wakes me with a shove. I dread the trip, although the buck will help us. I have but to search for a moment with my mind and find the beast in the woods nearby chewing happily on leaves. Gorian and Bets are still sleeping as Theo and I tumble outside. The temperature’s dropped since last night. My joints ache in protest.