"Nothing short of an act of God, ma'am, and I'm not sure God would want to mess with him. He is a marine, after all."
Dr. Bauval and Sergeant McGee went out that afternoon to root for herbs and nuts under the snow. Temperatures had been improving every day for the last week. Small bright flowers were beginning to push up through the melting snow. There was a sense that spring was coming. Hopefully the transition would be easier than the one from autumn to winter.
The streams roared with icy water from the melting snow and ice. Strange fish darted through the water, glittering, but Bauval was leery of trying them. He knew that the fish were laden with heavy metals that were toxic to human physiology, at least in the long term. He was fairly sure they would prove immediately poisonous if eaten, but hunger was a growing force that couldn't be denied. If Tebrey didn't get back soon, he'd try one of them. If it killed him, well, at least he'd die with a full stomach.
"I miss the birds," McGee said suddenly.
"I do, too. I saw a few last autumn, but none over the winter. I guess it gets too cold for them. They must migrate north. The northeast part of the continent near the equator is probably quite hospitable."
"We should have dug there, then."
"No ruins to speak of, I'm afraid. I would have loved to have collected plant and animal specimens from there, though."
"Can't stop being the scientist, eh?"
"It's who I am, Sergeant. If I let go of that, what do I have left?"
"If we die here, what does it matter?"
"We aren't going to die here."
"What do you think of our chances, Doc?" McGee asked seriously. "In the long term?"
"I'd say fairly good, McGee. We've got five months till Summersol, and it isn't likely to be as bad as Wintersol was. Then we have five more months after that before winter. We should be able to get established and maybe even farm some this year."
"I'm no farmer."
"You'll become one if you want to eat."
"I think we ought to move down to that village, if they'll let us. They seemed like good folks, and I'd be happier around more people."
Bauval noticed that the sergeant's Irish-derived accent had been getting more prominent in the last few weeks. He wasn't keeping his speech as close to Federation-standard Normarish as he had before; more Neo-Gaelic words were creeping in. "I agree with you, McGee, but Anderson thinks that we have the best chance of being rescued if we're where they can easily find us."
"Aye, he thinks it's going to happen tomorrow, too, but it's none too likely," McGee said. "Besides, I think he's too old to need much companionship."
"Ah, I suppose there is a lack of options here for that sort of thing. I can't say that I wouldn't welcome some comforts, too."
"I thought you and Mason..."
"No, Mason is happily married. She has a family," Bauval said with a sigh. "She's not interested in any kind of physical relationship. We're friends, nothing more."
"Pity. She's a fine woman," McGee commented. "I wouldn't mind being better acquainted with those student girls, either: Hanna, Jane – hell, even weird little Carmine. Enough to go around, I say."
"Yes, well." Bauval was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had drifted. "I suppose we should head back in."
McGee didn't pay any attention to him. He was looking at something in the distance.
I can see McGee and Bauval, Hunter thought to him excitedly. We made it!
Tebrey didn't answer, but pulled harder against the travois. It had gotten much more difficult to pull as the snow melted. Two days before, he had entered the foothills and finally found a landmark he recognized. He and Hunter had drifted far off to the east during the arduous journey.
He felt like he'd walked the length of the planet. He had never had to walk so much in his life, nor under such terrible conditions. Each footstep was agony. His bones ached, and his blisters had blisters.
Suddenly, he couldn't take another step.
Go get them, Tebrey thought to Hunter. It's time someone else pulled this damn thing. He then sat down by a tree and took deep sobbing breaths. They'd made it back to the encampment. He hadn't been at all sure that they would, but they had. No one else had to die from starvation. They'd have to make plans for the summer and next winter, but that could wait. For now, he just wanted to eat and sleep someplace safe and warm.
There was a celebration that evening at the site.
Tebrey had bought a bottle of strawberry tree-fruit wine at the village. After everyone had eaten their fill of the bread, meat, and cheese he had brought, he got out the wine and toasted the dead.
"To our fallen friends!" he shouted, taking a swig of the potent beverage. He then passed the bottle, and each person made the toast before they drank. Some cried, but that was all right. It was good to honor the dead and celebrate being alive.
They had a lot of work to do, but that could wait till the next day. It was good just to sit and eat and drink, and be among the people he had come to know as friends.
Chapter Thirty
Dr. James Anderson called the meeting to order.
Everyone left alive from the marooned expedition was at the assembly, all twenty-one of them, and that animal. The wind blowing through the site from the east moaned forlornly, an echo of the pain and suffering they had endured over the winter.
"We are here today," he began, "to decide what course of action we should take for our future here on Cedeforthy. Since we were marooned here, and we have lost many of our fellow expedition members, we must decide if we should try to dig in here and wait for rescue, or pursue a different course. After everyone has had their say, we will place each idea to the vote. In the event of a tie, each proponent will have a chance to explain their idea again before a revote."
He paused to catch his breath. His chest had been badly congested these last few weeks. There was nothing anyone could do. He'd been behind on his immunity injections when they had been marooned. He just hadn't found time for them. Now he could only hope he would live to regret it. He didn't have much faith in that, though; he knew the symptoms of pneumonia. I'm going to die on this damned world.
"Well," he said, "I'll begin. We came here as an archaeological expedition. I believe we should continue to perform that function. This was our preferred dig site. I say we settle down here and continue until we are rescued. That is all."
Mason stood up next. "Dr. Bauval and I have talked about this. We agree that we should continue our work, but not here." There was a stir at that. "We think that we should leave the higher elevations, where the climate is worse, and go out and explore the continent. I, for one, would love to have the chance to see more of the fascinating cultures here. Our vote is to travel to Bellejor, the capitol city of the Lyonan Empire, and see what we can learn from the great imperial library. They must have an extraordinary amount of history stored there. We also would like the chance to study the way Terran life has adapted to this world, especially the odd pale human variant." She sat back down.
"Anyone else?" asked Dr. Anderson.
"Yes," said Dr. Seshadri hesitantly. He stood slowly. He had been badly injured when the shuttles blew up, but the bastard had pulled through. Anderson had been hoping he'd die, but like the commander, he was too stubborn to die when he should.
"I, too, would like to continue our archaeological studies, but not here," Seshadri said. "We have those amazing maps. There are strange things marked on the maps: the red-marked cities; the strange star-shaped markers. The capitol city that is now called Bellejor is built on the ruins of one of the ancient cities. I, too, think we should travel to the city, but we should detour to see some of the other ruins along the way. The opportunity is too great."
Sergeant McGee stood up next. "I'm not one for words, so I'll be brief. I don't see how we can do all those things, but I'll go along with whatever everyone else wants. For myself, I'd be happy if we moved to the village and settled down to wait for rescue there. I say we've had eno
ugh hardship."
Anderson waited a few minutes, but no one said anything else. "Okay, let's put it to the vote, shall we?"
When everyone had voted, it was a tie between Mason's and McGee's proposals.
"Would anyone like to say anything else?" Anderson asked. He was angry that no one agreed with his proposal, but what could he do?
Tebrey stood up. "I think we should travel to the city. I'd like to stop at the ruins along the way, for curiosity if nothing else." He smiled at Dr. Seshadri, who nodded thankfully. "It isn't a matter of scientific curiosity for me. It's a matter of survival. The truth is that we aren't going to survive another winter like the last one if we stay here. The village is too small to take in twenty-two useless people." There was a murmur of discontent at that, but no one interrupted him. "We need to move to a place that has a large population base, where we can find employment and try to integrate into the culture. The capitol seems like the best bet."
"Is that everyone?" Anderson said testily. He was irritated that the commander had spoken up. He personally didn't feel that the military personnel should have any say in the matter. It was the military's fault they were stranded.
"Actually, I'd like to add something else," Tebrey said. "We need something to do if we're going to keep ourselves sane. Also, although no one wants to say it, there is the possibility that the Nurgg may win the war. We may never be rescued. I say we spend our lives in the pursuit of that which brought us here. Our companions died holding to that idea. I say we honor them by learning all we can about the natives and about the ancient culture that was here before. My datalink will alert me if one of our ships enters orbit. We can be rescued wherever we are."
There was a brief flurry of conversation as people adjusted to what he'd said. Mason and Bauval quietly argued with some of them. Tebrey and Hunter just sat and watched. Anderson could see that they had decided what they were going to do even if everyone else voted to stay in the village. The commander and his companion were going to leave. Anderson could see it. The man was going to abandon them if they didn't do what he said.
"We agree with the commander," Bauval spoke up. "We adjust our proposal to match that."
"All in favor of the commander's plan?" Anderson asked.
The vote wasn't even close. They would travel to the capitol.
"Do you really think this is the wisest course of action?" Mason asked. She was packing the few tools and clothes she had. "I've never traveled over land like this. Walking so far seems so... primitive."
"I've walked to the village," Tebrey answered. "You do what you have to. I think this is the best thing for our survival. Hunter and I were going to leave and explore even if no one else was."
"You were going to leave us?" she said, surprised and a little hurt.
"I was going to follow my heart. If I'm going to die on this planet, I don't want to freeze to death one night or get eaten by a sauroid. I want to die knowing I did more than sit by a fire and hope for the best. I don't plan on dying anytime soon, though. I'm bored here, Mason. I'm a soldier, not a glorified security guard."
"You'll stay with us as we travel?" She couldn't keep the fear out of her voice, and hated herself for that.
"Of course," he replied gently. "I consider you and many others to be my friends, and I don't say that lightly. I'm interested in the same things you are. I want to know why some of the people here are so different. I want to know what killed that ancient civilization, because something did. Knowing what happened to them could help us. I was going to ask you, Bauval, and the other marines if you wished to walk with me, anyway."
"Do you really think we'll never be rescued, then?"
"I think Fleet will be here someday to look for us. I just don't know when, and I don't want to have done nothing while waiting. My mother would have said I have a bad case of wanderlust. She used to say that about my father."
Mason laughed. "She would probably be right. Are you much like him?"
"I don't know. I remember a tall man with dark red hair and fierce eyes. He traveled a lot when I was a kid, I remember that. He'd gone missing not long before my mother died. I never found out what happened to him."
"Do you think he might still be alive?"
"Maybe," Tebrey replied, and then shrugged. "I don't know. I've never looked for him."
"Why?"
"I don't know. He wasn't around a lot, like I said. He was kind to me when he was, but he was… odd. Looking back at him as an adult, I see a stranger. I don't know how I'd feel if I knew that he'd been alive and let me grow in an orphanage instead of helping me. I think I would be angry with him. Growing up in that place was difficult."
Mason felt a little uncomfortable. She wasn't used to Tebrey being so candid. She looked around the small underground room where she had spent most of the last two months. "I think I'm ready. When are we leaving?"
"I'd like to leave tonight, but I doubt that will happen. Morning is most likely. I want to get everyone down to the village as soon as possible. We'll rest there for a day or two and then move on."
They didn't move out that evening, or even the next morning. Anderson stalled and fussed over the packing until dark the next day. Tebrey was angry at the delay, but didn't say anything to the archaeologist. He knew Anderson was ill, and that could make anyone irrational. Tebrey spent the day with Christopher and McGee sifting through the wreckage from the shuttles and stripping the skimmer.
"Do ya think this stuff will be use useful?" McGee asked.
"I don't have any idea, but I know I'd rather have it with me than need it and have to trek back here."
"I don't ever want to see this god-awful place again," McGee spat.
"You don't like mud and depressing ruins, Sergeant?" Christopher asked.
"No thank you, sir. If I never see another ruin, it'll be too soon."
They loaded the equipment onto the travois Tebrey had used to bring back food. At least there would be others to help pull it. It was going to be a long walk.
Chapter Thirty-One
"I'm not sure I approve of your associates, Jeroen," Lord Magistrate Gauthier said quietly.
"I'm not surprised, and I'm sorry you feel that way, father. I wish I could reassure you as to their intentions, but I know from past experience that my words would fall on deaf ears."
"That's hardly fair. I've interfered very little in your affairs over the years. In this instance, I feel compelled to intercede on your behalf."
"Only because you feel that this could cause you political embarrassment," Jeroen said bitterly. "I don't need your approval to make a pilgrimage to the capitol. I'm sure my uncle would be happy to see me after all these years. Maybe even my mother."
Gauthier flinched. He and his wife had been political rivals in the capitol for years. Her political aspirations had mixed badly with his desire for justice. He had never bothered to try to attain political power. But he had married the sister of one of the most powerful men in the Empire, although the marriage had more to do with the marquess and he being good friends as they had grown up. Marrying the sister of his best friend had been an obvious move at the time.
His wife and brother-in-law had gotten along fine for years, but then something happened; Gauthier was never sure what. His wife became the rival of the marquess and was against everything he stood for. Sadly, Gauthier himself had been forced to choose the side of the marquess in the matter. It was that falling out that had led to his placement at the far edge of the Empire.
He sighed and took a deep drink of wine. The boy is too much like me, he thought ruefully.
"I'm sorry, father. I may not need your approval, but I do desire it. You've met several of my associates. Try to look past the fact that they are foreigners and see them as the fascinating people they are."
"I look, and I see my son becoming infatuated with their strange customs and manners of speech. I don't trust them, especially the barbarian."
"You needn't trust them, father. You're not the
one traveling with them." He held up his hand to forestall another round of recriminations. "I'm taking a company of household troops with me. I'll be fine."
"Then I suppose there is nothing left to say on the matter. You've made up your mind, and I know that once you get an idea into your thick skull, you'll not give it up for anything. I was that way myself once."
Jeroen stood up to leave, but Gauthier held out his hand to stop him.
"Be careful, son. Give your mother my love if you see her. Not that she wants it." He knew that the Lady Varakana had no use for his love, or for their son. But some things a man must find out for himself, and his son had become a man. No amount of wishing would bring back the boy who had sat on his knee and listened to his stories.
"I will, father. Maintain the law here. I'll see what I can do to put in a good word for you."
"You'd as soon convince the moons to reverse their course. I doubt anything short of an imperial decree would allow me to return, but thank you anyway."
It had taken over a week for the survivors to straggle into the village, where they weren't exactly welcomed with open arms. The village was too small and too poor to take in almost two dozen more people. They had camped uncomfortably outside the barricade and starting buying supplies for their long journey to the capitol.
"How is our supply situation, Sergeant?" Christopher asked.
"Looking good, now, LT." He pronounced it El Tee. "We've used most of the coins that the commander gave us, but we got three pack mules to carry our food and gear. Probably paid too much, but what can you do?" He paused and shrugged. "We should have food for about a month. The lord's man said we would get to another village to the south in about two weeks of travel. I hate to think what we're going to do when we run out of money."
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