“No.”
Kirsten stares at Maggie as if she’s suddenly grown a second head and is preparing to use it to commit cannibalism upon her person. “Wha-at?”
“You need to get out of here, Kirsten. And not down to that damn factory, which is likely crawling with Hart’s new groupies. You need to get somewhere far, far away from here.”
“Now, wait just a minute here. I’m not going to be chased away from this base by some asshole with an agenda. I don’t care how many ‘friends’ he has, and how big his guns are. No how, no way, so just put that out of your head right now.”
“Kirsten, it’s not that.” Maggie smiles, a little, caught out and knowing it. “Ok, it’s not just that.”
“What is it, then?” Kirsten’s arms fold themselves across her chest, implacable armor against Maggie’s coming words.
“Listen to me, please.” Maggie heaves a sigh. Her hand lifts, and she begins ticking points off on her long fingers. “Your computer is gone. The code that you risked your life at Minot for is gone. And with it is any chance of you being able to turn off those damn droids, not just for now, for this damn battle, but forever. There has got to be some place, some other place, where you can get what you need to get to do the job you need to do.”
“But I can do that after—.”
“No. No, you can’t. Don’t you see, Kirsten? Hart’s primary purpose is to destroy you and all the goodness in this world, and he’s not gonna stop until it’s done. Whether it’s this battle, or the next, or the next. He’s got more manpower than we could ever hope to possess, more firepower, more everything. Our only chance, this damn world’s only chance, is for you to cut his troops off at the source. Now. Not later. Because later will likely never come. You need to go. And you,” she says, turning to Koda, “need to guide her.”
Kirsten looks at her lover, horrified when she realizes that Dakota is actually considering Maggie’s insane order. “Koda, you can’t possibly—.”
The rest of Kirsten’s words fade down to a meaningless drone as another voice, one well remembered if little heard, weaves its way through Dakota’s brain, like a mist before the dawn. “I have something to tell you: do not hesitate to flee when the time comes. Victory will follow you. For the sake of all the People, two-footed, four-footed, winged and creeping, you must do what you least wish to, when you least wish to. I will be here waiting when you return.”
“We need to leave.” Dakota’s voice is low, and tortured, as if the words are being forced from her by something, or someone, beyond her control. They set badly in her mouth, but their truth is undeniable in the hard shine of her eyes.
“What? What are you saying? We can’t run!”
“We need to leave,” she repeats, trance-like. “We need to find the answers. They’re not here. Victory will follow us.”
“Dakota, you’re not making any sense!”
Ignoring Kirsten for the moment, Koda looks over at Maggie, eyebrow raised. The general smiles, and nods. “We’ll do okay, I think. I still have a few aces up my sleeve. Aces even Hart doesn’t suspect exist. It’ll be hard, but…we’ll do okay.”
Koda nods, and a subtle transference occurs between the two women; one that Kirsten can’t, to her great consternation, read. Then the blazing blue eyes turn back to her, and the young scientist is once again captured effortlessly within their pristine depths. “This is the right thing to do, my love. It’s the only thing we can do and hope to win in the end. Anything else will only delay the inevitable. I know you know this…deep inside. Look. You’ll see.”
But Kirsten doesn’t need to look. She’s known the truth from the very second Maggie suggested leaving. It sits across her shoulders like a yoke, like a cross, growing heavier with each passing second, each passing thought.
“I’ll help you carry it,” Koda says, reading her effortlessly. “Together, to the end of whatever journey the gods have planned for us.”
“Where will we go?” Kirsten asks, beginning to accept the inevitable.
“It’s your call,” Dakota replies, reaching out and grasping her lover by the hand, a hand that is cold, slightly damp, but strong and steady. “Where is Westerhaus’ inner sanctum? That might be the most direct route.”
“Silicon Valley, but god, that’s so far….”
“We’ll get there. Somehow, we’ll get there. Unless there’s somewhere else that you think is better? You’re the boss here.”
Kirsten thinks for a moment, then nods. “If we want to stop this shit at the source, we need to go to the source. You’re right.”
“Great,” Maggie interjects. “Then it’s settled. Manny will take you out with the Cheyenne.”
“The river?” Kirsten asks, confused. “How will we get past all those droids?”
Maggie smirks. “Just go over to hangar twenty two. He’s waiting for you.”
Kirsten scowls. “You had this planned all along, didn’t you.”
“We knew it would be an eventuality, Kirsten. It’s happening a little sooner than we expected, sure, but the sooner you get out of here, the sooner we can all breathe a little easier.” Her smile softens as she closes the two steps between them, and looks down into Kirsten’s clear, beautiful eyes. “You’re our hope, Kirsten. And I, for one, am glad of it.” Leaning forward, she brushes a soft kiss against her lips, then pulls away. “Good luck.”
*
Maggie’s keys flash in the early sun as she tosses them to Simmons. “Take my Jeep. Take Dr. Rivers and President King home to pick up their things. Then take them out to the flightline. Hangar 22.”
Simmons’s eyes go wide, his eyebrows ascending his forehead in surprise. “Hangar 22?” he squeaks, making a dive for the keys that ends in a two-handed catch.
“You got it. Koda.” Dakota walks into Maggie’s open arms, returning her hard embrace and the chaste kiss on her cheek. “You know what you have to do. Be safe.”
“You’re in more danger than we’ll be,” Koda says, stepping back, letting her hands linger a moment in the other woman’s. “Tóksha aké wanchinyankin kte.”
“We’ll make it. Until then. Kirsten.” Maggie hugs Kirsten tightly, whispering something in her ear that Koda cannot quite make out. It is something that makes her smile, though, and Kirsten says softly. “Don’t worry. I will.”
“Go, now. We’re going to stall them as long as we can. We’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”
With an arm around each of their shoulders, Maggie half hugs, half pushes, them both out the door. Koda’s last sight of her is a straight-backed silhouette at the view slit, raising the binoculars again to her eyes.
They pass the ride home in silence. Kirsten, regardless of Simmons in the front seat, leans into Koda’s arm, clinging to her. Her hand in Dakota’s feels cold as the frozen dead of the Hurley farm, all those months ago. And with reason. It comes to her that this is the second time Kirsten has been forced out of a place of safety and purpose and thrust into the unknown with the fate of her world and her species riding squarely on her shoulders. At least for her brief sojourn at Shiloh, and again at Ellsworth, that burden had been shared. “Hey,” Koda says softly. “We’ll make it. We’re a hell of a team.”
“What about Maggie? And Tacoma? How—”
“The best way they can, cante sukye. They’re warriors, blood and bone. They’ll hold.” Her fingers tighten involuntarily on Kirsten’s shoulder. “However they have to, they’ll hold.”
“However,” Kirsten repeats, her voice flat.
The words hang in the air between them, unspoken. Kirsten will not say them; neither will Dakota, who knows that words have power. Even at the cost of their lives. Even if they can only hold the enemy temporarily.
The Jeep buckets up into the driveway, and Koda gives her lover’s hand a last squeeze. “Take Asi out to pee. I’ll start packing.” To Simmons she adds, “Fifteen minutes.”