“Didn’t think so, Ma’am.”
Koda clamps her jaw shut and settles for shaking her head. She scans the area ahead and, once she has their position firmly in her mind, slips the communications piece back in her ear and, through the static, relays that position in Lakota to her brother.
Satisfied with her response, Tacoma cuts communication and the world around Dakota falls back into blessed quiet. In the silence, she notices Kirsten staring blankly into the distance, her expression intent. Closing the distance between them, Dakota stops just outside the other woman’s body-space and waits patiently.
Sensing Dakota’s presence, Kirsten blinks, draws back into herself, and gives the tall woman a questioning look.
“Hear anything?”
“Garbled,” Kirsten replies, slipping the bud from her ear. “They’re definitely headed this way, though.” She looks around, then back at Koda. “It would make sense, if they’ve got humans with them, to take a main road, even if it hasn’t been plowed. Are there any of those near here?”
“About ten paces directly ahead. A main highway.”
“That close, huh?”
Koda grins, a flash of pure white against the black greasepaint on her face. “We’ll be long gone before they get within sniffing distance.”
As Kirsten nods her understanding and replaces her earbud, Koda sobers. She opens her mouth as if to speak, then closes it, unable or unwilling to risk this new bit of warmth between them.
Kirsten notices. “What is it?”
Koda takes in a deep breath, considering her words. “I believe…in being prepared. I know this is just a recon mission, but something unexpected could happen, and if it does….”
Kirsten bristles. “I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of handling….”
“It’s not that,” Koda replies, holding her hand up. “It’s….” Pausing, she fights for words again. “Look, if we need to shoot up some of those drones, and you’re tapped into one of them at the time, I don’t think Manny and I can keep you alive long enough for the others to get here and get us back to base.”
A smile comes unbidden to Kirsten’s lips. She feels a wash of tenderness so foreign to her that for a moment, she’s taken aback by the strength of that simple, undeniably powerful emotion. “I’ll be okay,” she assures softly, reaching out one gloved hand to touch, only briefly, Koda’s strong wrist. “The problem’s been corrected. I won’t be getting caught in any more self destruct feedback loops. I promise.”
Koda looks deep into Kirsten’s eyes, twin sparks of high color among the monochrome of lampblack and full moon. Her memories guide her spirit to the beat of the drums, to the pulse of the ether, the brightness of the Star-that-has-no-Name, and the ever-present pull of the seductive wind.
“The time is not yet,” she whispers.
Kirsten freezes, a living statue in a land humanity has forsworn. “What?”
The soft voice shakes her from her memories. “Nothing. It was….”
The words on the tip of Kirsten’s tongue dry out as several streams of data pour into her implants. She cocks her head, still looking at Dakota. “They’re headed this way. Ten armored military droids, twenty two regulars, almost fifty humans traveling on foot…or treads…or…whatever. They’re picking up more as they move along. They’re broadcasting everywhere. I can hear chatter from at least seven more groups nearby.”
“This isn’t good,” Manny mutters, his eyes darting, trying to look everywhere at once.
“Strengths?” Koda asks, tightening her grip on her weapon.
“Don’t know yet. They’re definitely heading for the base, though.”
“And the humans. Coerced or voluntary?”
“I don’t know that yet either,” Kirsten bites off, shaking her head. “No real mention of them in the routine communications I’m picking up.”
Manny steps forward. “As much as I don’t believe I’m saying this, Koda, I think we should treat them like unfriendlies no matter what their circumstances.”
Kirsten gazes over at him, shocked. “Is that what they’re teaching you in the military these days?”
“No, Ma’am,” Manny replies, spine so straight it crackles. “Exactly the opposite, in fact. But right now, I don’t think we can afford to take any chances. Ma’am.”
Dismissing him with a look, Kirsten concentrates on the chatter coming over her implants. Koda flips on her com unit and quietly relays Kirsten’s reports to Tacoma in Lakota. When she’s done, she looks back to Kirsten. “Any more info?”
“Nothing specific. They’re still headed this way. If the GPS was working, I could tell you exactly how far.”
“It’s alright.” Grinning, she hefts a large and heavy sack and slings it over her back. “Manny, stay here and keep an eye out. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Wait! Where are you….” Kirsten cuts off her own words as she realizes she’s speaking to thin air. She turns to Manny. “Where is she going?”
Manny smirks, then shrugs. “Dunno. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. Dakota’s real good at taking care of business. And herself.”
Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, Kirsten stares down the most likely path of Koda’s disappearance. “Yes,” she comments softly, more to the air than the man standing just a few paces away. “Yes, I suppose she is.”
The time is not yet.
*
Having been taught to snowshoe as soon as she had learned to walk, Dakota moves effortlessly across the snowy plain, leaving no discernable tracks behind. Headed south, away from the droids and their human collaborators (or captives, if one possesses a glass-half-full attitude), she parallels the road for a little over two miles, then back, and back again, until she comes to the perfect spot. Moonlight glints off perfect white teeth as she surveys her surroundings. She knows this particular stretch of road very well. Long, straight, and utterly monotonous, it’s exactly what she needs.
Slinging the pack away from her body, she unzips the front and reaches inside, gloved fingers gingerly clamping onto a thick metal container. Pulling it out, she sets the pack on the snow, then unscrews the lid of the container and reaches inside. She removes a flat metallic disc the same size and shape as an old-time DVD. Military technology had escalated to stratospheric heights during and after the last of the Great Wars, and the device she holds in her hand is one such example. An anti-tank mine, it is much smaller, much lighter, much more accurate, and much deadlier than the mines of old. Placed correctly, it will allow the humans and non-military droids to step directly on it without tripping the trigger.
Such will not be the case when the heavy treads of a military android descend.
Calmly, and with precision, Koda places her stash of mines, ten in all, into the natural cracks and divots of the snow and ice that packs the road. Sweat pours liberally from her face and her breath comes in soft pants of mist. She works freely and easily. Nature, even in the deep of an icy night, flows over, around, and through her, accepting her as its own, even in her destructive task. A sharp wind cuts across the naked flesh of her face, but she pays it no mind, intent on her work and the ebb and flow of life around her.
An hour later, she steps back and, hands on hips, views her work by the light of the moon. A grunt of satisfaction, and she zips her pack, reseats the straps across her broad shoulders, and turns back the way she came.
*
A soft owl’s hoot brings Manny to instant attention. When the sound is repeated, he hoots back, which catches Kirsten’s attention. Slipping the bud from her ear, she turns in Manny’s direction and is almost launched into orbit when the empty space of a split-second ago is suddenly filled by Dakota’s very living presence. “Holy Jesus,” she breathes, holding a hand up to her chest. “You just scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry,” Koda replies, contrite. She glances at Manny. “All quiet?”