by Gun Brooke
“Have some of this before we start walking,” she said, and began handing out mugs. “This is new territory to all of you and you’ll need your strength.”
The marines looked into their mugs as if they thought it was poison. Gemma sighed. “Come on. Be brave and have a sip. It’s very good. If I love this herbal concoction, I can promise you, it has to be good.”
Tacrosty smiled sheepishly at Ciel and drank some of it. Looking surprised, he downed the rest quickly. “That wasn’t just good, that was delicious.”
The other marines clearly took his word for it, and soon they’d hoisted their backpacks and all they could carry in their hands. Major Vesmonc planned to stay behind with four of his marines to guard the vehicles and also serve as communications liaison between the ones going forward and SC headquarters, in case their communicators began acting weird.
As Gemma took up the lead with Ciel next to her and Sgt. Tacrosty on her other side, she hoped they weren’t too late.
Chapter Seven
The sun was directly above the convoy, not providing much shade anywhere. Used to the outdoors, Ciel drenched a large piece of cloth in a brook and sprinkled some dried petals from tisslas, a night flower with cooling qualities. She used it on burns, mainly, but also as a way to cool someone with persistent fever. After she wrapped the cloth around her head, the tissla swelled together with the water and the process cooled her scalp, which in turn had a similar effect on the rest of her body. She glanced over at Gemma, who was fiddling with her uniform cap. She turned it inside out and pressed a sensor.
“Makes it cool.” Gemma put the cap back on. “Thank the stars.”
It was rather amusing that they were achieving the same results with completely different methods. Ciel smiled. “As long as it works. How long will that keep you cool before it runs out of power?”
“It’s solar operated, so it’ll work as long as the sun’s up.” Gemma grinned only to curse under her breath when her foot caught on a root sticking up from the ground. They were walking along a very narrow path, barely allowing two people to walk side by side.
“Careful. You don’t want to fall into any shrubbery next to the path,” Ciel said. “They look harmless enough, but as an Earth human, you don’t know which plants you might have an adverse reaction to.”
“Wonderful.” Gemma glared at the offending foliage. “One more of those roots and I might fall into a bush and swell up like an old-fashioned balloon.”
“Balloon?”
“People used to inflate plastic bags of some sort several hundred years ago on Earth. Usually on happy occasions as birthdays—”
“Birthdays?” Ciel marveled. “You mean, when a baby was born?”
“Yes, then, and on the anniversary of their births, weddings, and holidays.”
“You celebrated birthdays every year?” This was an interesting custom. “Sounds…excessive.”
“We still do. Your birthday is considered your special day.” Gemma shook her head. “I haven’t really adhered to that custom since I left my home to join the Academy. I usually end up forgetting about it.”
Ciel tried to imagine what might go on at these celebrations. She assumed that food was a big part of it, as with any celebration on Gantharat. Even in the camp, the fun-loving and amicable Gantharians made sure to find something to celebrate. Unknown to the Onotharian guards, they loved most to celebrate helping someone escape.
“Where did you go?” Gemma looked quizzically at Ciel as they were forced to walk one at a time past a protruding part of the bedrock.
“Back in time,” Ciel said honestly. “Celebrations are a big part of the Gantharian traditions. Even in the camp we prepared feasts, though they were pretty meager.”
“Good for morale that you managed some semblance of normalcy when nothing about it was normal.”
Amazed at how intuitive Gemma was, that she understood without Ciel having to elaborate, she extended a hand to help Gemma up a steep part of the path. “Yes, you’re right. It especially did the children good. The camp council was divided into two parts when it came to what they valued most. I always thought it was just as important to not breed hate, no matter how I sometimes detested the occupants. But plenty of others believed that indoctrinating the young ones at an early age to become fighters was more important. My comrades and I called them the militia, and we were often at odds with the leaders of that group.” Ciel was taken aback at how easy it was to share this with Gemma. “I maintained that keeping such traditions as Spring Feast and Fall Glory alive was just as important as covert missions.”
Gemma smiled. “Though I’m of a military mind-set, I still happen to agree with you. I mean, life was going on while you were in the camp. The children wouldn’t get a second chance at childhood, and as you say, not breeding hate is what will help lay the foundation to how well Gantharat succeeds in regaining its independence.”
“Yes, absolutely.” Ciel rounded a large protrusion in the bedrock, then stopped, gazing across what used to be a slowly moving river. Now it was forcing its way between boulders and tall trees, as if determined to bring them along. “Damn.”
“And we have to cross without any dependable hover-packs.” Gemma turned to Sgt. Tacrosty. “Suggestions, Sergeant?”
“Old-school, Commander.” He looked serious. “Fire a filament-arrow into a strong-looking tree. Find our best swimmer to take a rope over, tethered to the filament. Have them secure the rope. Then we go over, two at a time, to not put too much strain on the rope as the water’s too wild to risk it.”
“Sounds like a plan, but I can’t say I look forward to going into the water. Seems cold.” She glanced at Ciel. “Guess we’ll be lining up for that soup of yours to warm us afterward.”
“No problem. I have enough base to make more.” Ciel had no idea what a filament-arrow was, but she agreed with Gemma. Going into the wild water, no matter the temperature, wasn’t tempting.
“All our bags are sealed shut, so our gear should be fine.” Tacrosty removed his bag and pulled a plasma-pulse rifle from his back. “I’m a good marksman when it comes to shooting projectiles, but Corporal Lund is a competitive swimmer.”
“Give Lund the chance to volunteer. If he doesn’t, I’ll do it. I’m a good swimmer, but I’m used to swimming in pools on space stations or at resorts when on shore leave.”
Tacrosty approached his subordinates and soon Cpl. Lund came over and acknowledged that he’d be swimming. In the meantime, Tacrosty had removed the nozzle of his rifle and attached a strange-looking device consisting of a cylinder-shaped nozzle with a flat, circular protrusion underneath. He walked to the riverbank and planted his feet firmly on the ground. “How about the third from the right, next to that rock, ma’am?” He pointed across the water.
“Good choice. Denser than the older trees,” Ciel said.
“You heard the expert on anything that grows.” Gemma motioned for the sergeant to take the shot.
Tacrosty raised the rifle, took aim with his feet slightly apart, and pressed the sensor to fire. Faster than the humanoid eye could detect, something pierced the air and then Tacrosty smiled broadly. “Dead center of the trunk, ma’am!”
“Excellent. Secure the filament on this end.”
Ciel walked over to Tacrosty and examined the thin wire. Barely thicker than sewing thread, it ran across the river and was clearly attached to the tree. “This will be impossible to hold on to. Won’t it cut into Lund’s fingers?” She frowned as she let her fingertips strum it like a string-operated musical instrument.
“Oh, he won’t be holding on to this with his bare hands, if he holds on at all. We’ll attach his harness to this, and also, his gloves are reinforced to handle the friction against the filament.”
“Ah, I see.” That made sense. Ciel watched Tacrosty secure the filament around a tall boulder. He used another instrument to measure the tautness.
Gemma motioned for Ciel to follow her. “While Lund gets ready to swim, let’s
make sure our bags are sealed and the technology protected against the water.”
“Why do you carry technology with you when you know the readings won’t be reliable?” Ciel examined her bags, letting her fingers run along the fastening to ensure there were no gaps.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you. These instruments have a built-in protection from any interference. Smaller items are easier to protect than huge ones like hovercraft.”
“I see.” Ciel looked down at herself. “I assume we should remove some of our clothes so we can swim more easily.”
“Yes, absolutely. Better keep on something with long sleeves and that covers your legs. We don’t know what’s under the water. Less risk of scrapes and cuts that way.”
“Not to mention the mini-leeches.”
Gemma stopped short. “The what?”
“This part of the mainland sometimes suffers from an infestation of mini-leeches in the water.”
“And what exactly are they? I mean, what do they do?” Gemma looked positively nauseous.
“They’re usually harmless, but it’s not fun to find yourself covered with them. If too many get on you, and you don’t get rid of them instantly, they can make you anemic.”
“Oh, for stars and skies. I wish I’d never asked.”
Ciel had to laugh. The expression of disgust on Gemma’s face was rather endearing in a strange sort of way. “Don’t worry. I don’t think it’ll be a big problem in such rapid waters, and we’ll inspect each other once we’re on the other side. We should inform the troops to do the same.”
“Absolutely.” Gemma glanced toward the water. “Corporal Lund’s going in. Come on.”
*
Gemma stood at the bank of the river with her arms crossed over her chest. Not taking her eyes off the bobbing head of the young corporal, she spoke with a low voice that her longtime colleagues would recognize well.
“Keep the rope taut but don’t pull, Sergeant.”
“I’ve got it, ma’am.”
“How are his vital signs?”
A younger female private checked the monitor on her sleeve. “So far, it’s like he’s taking a walk in the park, Commander.”
“Good. Temperature?”
“Lund’s core temperature is 36.2 Celsius. Water temperature is 16.”
“In other words, damn cold.”
Suddenly Lund’s head disappeared. Gemma dropped her arms and took a step forward. “Sergeant?”
“He’s good, ma’am.” Tacrosty glanced at the private’s monitor. “There. There he is. He’s up.”
Breathing evenly out of sheer willpower, Gemma watched the dark head slowly move toward the opposite bank. It had begun to rain, which in a way indicated that everything was being as difficult as possible. “Is everyone ready to help Lund by tightening the rope on this end?”
“Yes, Commander.” Tacrosty nodded. “As soon as he’s out of the water, he can connect the communicator. We didn’t want to risk it in the water, even if it’s supposed to tolerate being submerged.”
Gemma turned to Ciel. “Sergeant Tacrosty will be the first to go over. You will accompany him—”
“I’d rather go with you.” Ciel’s eyes took on the steely blue-black nuance that was so familiar by now.
“No. You—”
“Please.”
Gemma stared. Ciel never pleaded. Whatever reason she had to prefer to swim with Gemma, it had to be compelling for her to beg. “Very well.” She cleared her voice. “Sergeant. You will go first with Private…” She read the nametag quickly. “Vollenby. Once you’re over, start a few fires. That way we’ll save our portable heat units for the patients.” The fine drizzling rain chilled the air, and the previous heat that had bothered everyone was gone. “Better make them large enough that the rain won’t drown them out.”
“Yes, Commander. On it.” Tacrosty had already undressed into the long-sleeved SC fleet-issued undergarment, as had Private Vollenby.
“Lund to Meyer. I’m safely on the other side, ma’am.”
Gemma turned her eyes back to the corporal, smiling now as he waved at them. “I see you, Corporal. Secure the rope and let us know when it’s safe to tighten it from here.” She hoped that the rope would run just above the waterline, within reach but easy to spot and not obscured by the torrent water.
Soon the rope was attached at both ends—taut enough to support the swimmers, but hopefully not so tight it risked breaking its moorings. Tacrosty and Vollenby had tied their backpacks at their highest position on their backs and now entered the water, beginning to swim with long strokes. Tethered to the rope by a short wire that slid along it as they swam, they made their way steadily with a few meters between them. Impatience gripped her. It would take them the better part of the day to get everyone across the river safely.
“You all set?” Ciel asked from behind.
Turning, she saw that Ciel had removed her coverall and was stowing it in her large backpack. It barely fit among the herbs and other things she’d packed.
“Don’t frown. Many of the herbs have lots of air in their containers to help preserve them. That’ll act as a floating device in itself.” Ciel pulled the backpack on and hooked it onto her harness. She adjusted the shoulder straps and then leaned against a tree to take the weight off.
“Almost.” Gemma watched the two in the water reach the bank on the other side, greeted by Lund, who met them with firewood cradled in his arms. “I’ll get ready while two more of the privates go over.”
Two young men jumped in and began swimming, one of them unable to keep from uttering a curse. “Freezing,” he groaned as he began to swim.
“Wonderful,” Gemma muttered, and began removing her coverall. She wore the same undergarment as the other SC soldiers; the only difference was the color, as commissioned officers wore black. She tucked her discarded clothes and boots into her backpack, grateful that they were made of a material that could be thoroughly compressed.
When the previous pair reached safety, Gemma took a deep breath as she connected her harness to the rope. She waded into the water, and only her rigorous SC training over the years kept her from gasping. She hated cold water and the way it made all her nerve endings contract in disgust.
“H’rea dea’savh,” Ciel muttered behind her. “We better start swimming, and fast. I don’t want anyone to think I’m a weakling whose teeth start clattering as soon as she walks into the water.”
“I agree.” Gemma drew a deep breath and began swimming along the rope.
The current gripped her immediately. Though it tore and tugged at her, she forged ahead, swimming with sure strokes. Her instinct told her to hammer away at the water to get to the other side as fast as possible, but that would be foolish. Long strokes, long and slow, she told herself, long strokes to make it over at a steady pace. The water pulled at her backpack. This made her worry for Ciel, who had a much larger pack. “Ciel?”
“Yes?” Ciel sounded remarkably calm behind her.
“You all right?”
“Yes. Keep swimming. Your pace helps me.”
“Good.” Gemma had to stop shouting as water gushed into her mouth.
Estimating that they had covered a third of the distance, Gemma dared to glance behind her. The water was becoming nearly impossible to struggle against. Was she really in such bad shape? Ciel looked like she found it hard to maneuver with the large backpack tipping her sideways.
“The current’s getting worse,” Ciel gasped.
“I think so too.” Gemma coughed as water gushed over her face. “Just keep going. Drag yourself along the rope if you need to.”
“I…my arms are giving out, Gemma.” Ciel suddenly disappeared under the surface.
Gemma stared at the loop securing Ciel to the rope. “Ciel!” She backed up, tugging at the loop. Suddenly Ciel’s head was above the water again.
“H’rea—”
“Dea’savh. I know.” Gemma was relieved that Ciel was well enough to curse in Gantharian. “Ho
ld on to the rope. Got a good grip?”
Ciel nodded.
“Good. Use your other hand and hold on to my harness. I can’t pull us both along, but use your legs and kick. That way we’ll swim together and use our bulk to fight the water.”
“All right.” Ciel looked pale and her blue-toned lips were dark blue from the cold.
“Remember, you have to help me.”
“Understood.”
Gemma clenched her teeth and began swimming. She felt a push from behind, propelling her through the water. This was working. Every time Gemma kicked her feet and used her arms to make strong and steady strokes, she could tell Ciel used her legs to help push them forward.
Just as they were a little more than halfway across the river, something hit Gemma’s right leg mid-thigh. Numbness rather than pain made it impossible to move it at first.
“What’s wrong?” Ciel gasped behind her. “I felt something. A thud.”
“My leg. Something…hit my leg.”
“Keep using the other one and your arm. We’re heading toward calmer water.”
Gemma struggled to comply, but the numbness was changing into an overwhelming dull ache, making it harder. Still, Ciel had to have dug deep for extra energy as she kicked them ahead. Gemma gasped for air and did her best. She counted silently the strokes, thinking, just ten more, just ten more after that. Her throat ached from the spray of the water. The only upside to its high level of salt was that it made it marginally easier to stay afloat.
“Look. Just a little longer,” Ciel said. “Don’t give up on me, Gemma.”
“Never.” Appalled at how badly her teeth chattered, Gemma shoved her arms through the water, feeling the taste of blood in her mouth. She didn’t even want to think about having to do this again when going back to the hovercraft.
