Nova (37 page)

Though still rather warm, the weather turned muggy,
heralding the rain that broke through the sky at early midday. Soon, streamers
of water tracked from scalp, to cheek to shoulder, the rain sheeting until both
were soaked through. Still, they continued their ground eating pace, wanting to
come within spitting distance of the cliffs for shelter after they hunted,
especially given the turn in the weather.

It was a struggle, and as the day wore on, K’llan found the
going to be increasingly difficult. Vision had become spotty and the path
slippery with run–off. At the same time, she could feel her strength flagging
to a minimum, exertion and hunger attempting to claim their prize as K’llan’s saturated
garments clung like a shroud trying to bear her down to the ground for burial.

Casting her gaze at her companion, she could see by her
starkly drawn features that Avara was hardly faring better than herself. The
advantages of so many Arca Microtech Enhancements, including a PV, extended
only so far before the body’s systems started to breakdown. Essentially, blood
and tissue began to self–cannibalize in a desperate bid to sustain the additional
demands required by such augmentations.

About three hours before the appearance of dusk, the two companions
came to a halt, pausing to review the forty–foot up–sweep of hills and cliff–cutaways
scattered in the face’s north side. Fighting the pinch of fatigue, K’llan cast
her eyes to where Captain Serros pointed, a dark smudge against the fragile
light pushing through the downpour. “There; looks like a good choice.”

“I will take your word for it.” Z’arr answered, too weary to
add more.

“Let’s scout it out together then we’ll tackle food.”

“Right then.”

The two began their slippery scramble up the muddy hillside.
They made the naturally carved opening in fairly short order, and despite the
murky weather, the view from above was stunning. Muted blue and gray melded with
dark green and gold, fused to a sky that was periodically cracked by lightning
mated with thunder.

Proceeding forward, the two cautiously worked their way
inside the depression. The cave turned out to be about fifteen feet or so deep,
and was, thankfully, both dry and empty except for a yellowed set of unidentifiable
ossuary remains resting on gravel–covered earth flooring.

Convinced that no danger lurked inside their newly acquired
shelter, Captain Serros turned towards K’llan. “Why don’t you set up camp and
see what you can do about finding and drying some flammable materials for a
fire so we can cook. I’m going to see about scrounging up some food.”

“By yourself? Would it not be better to stay together?”
K’llan asked, worried. They had both caught sound and sight of more jakhri
roving the wet grasslands throughout the day.

Lifting the cowl of her scarlet hood to once more cover her
head, Avara replied, “No, I don’t think so. The process will go much more
quickly if we divide what needs to be done.”

Considering the Human woman’s words and what lay underneath,
though she was too polite to say so, K’llan knew Avara was obliquely
communicating that at this stage, Z’arr was simply too drained to be an
adequate hunting partner. Avara intended to draw on the last of her greater reserves
of her Arca Enhanced stamina, speed, and senses, and as such, she would move
more quickly and quietly on her own.

Again noting how tired and worn the Human seemed, the
application of logic did not dictate pleased acceptance.

“I’ll be fine, Lieutenant.” The Captain answered her unspoken
concern, effortless reading K’llan’s emotions.

“Very well. If you do not return within three hours, I shall
Comm you.” K’llan replied, the statement half promise and half threat.

“Understood.” Avara answered with a tight, crooked grin, and
then she was gone, slipping down the hillside with the grace of the hunting cats
the two had spotted more than once over the last few days, lean and dangerous.
Staring out of the natural doorway of the shallow cave, the last sight K’llan
caught of the Human woman was her slight pause at the hill’s base, then Avara
blurred out of existence like a ghost, soaring through rain and grass alike.

 Consciously choosing to press the warble of anxiety she
felt over the Captain’s safety into the back recesses of her mind and also pushing
away the pounding drum of the headache she’d been sporting for the day’s
duration, Z’arr went about her preparations. Practice had made the chore fairly
easy, though locating enough fuel for the intended fire was more difficult.

Z’arr waded through mud and grass alike to gather armfuls of
the tough, stubby–branched bushes that spread throughout the grass and
especially along the stream’s banks. In the end, the Vosaia made several trips
down the hill and then systematically rotated clutches of branches and long
grass–blades, fan–like, on the ground before the generator to fully dry. She
did the same with the chill–courting, sodden Karukai jacket and her now water–slicked
and loosened hair.

After an appropriate span of time, the closest of her
gathered kindling had dried and K’llan built but did not yet light a fire. With
everything completed that could be until Serros returned, Z’arr settled in and waited.

Despite the generator’s steady if dull warmth, K’llan found
that she was continuously assaulted by fits of shivering and the hammering in
her head persistently gained in force. As the minutes ticked by, the Vosaia increasingly
battled the urge to curl up around the generator and just close her too heavy
eyes.

At last, K’llan caught sight of a familiar figure climbing
up the edge of the steep incline and stepping into the relative warmth of the
cavern.

With a low curse muttered in her native tongue of Avenos,
Z’arr forced her protesting body to rise and help the Captain as she wrestled
with the dripping corpse of a large, female jakhri slung across her shoulders.

“I heard that.” Avara greeted, a playful if tired smile
about her mouth.

Helping to bear the animal’s weight down to the pebbled
ground at the cave’s opening, K’llan replied, “Must be spending too much time
with you, Captain.”

“Ha–ha.” The Human responded as she shook off water and
fatigue and dropped her weapon’s harness to the ground so she could remove her
drenched jacket. K’llan could see goose bumps sprout along the Human’s sleekly
muscled arms as she shucked–off mud spattered and soaked boots and socks, then placed
all her gear out by the generator to dry.

Watching Avara move towards the slain animal and unable to
quite repress a frown of aversion, K’llan remarked, “I hope you know how to
handle the animal, Captain. I am afraid such was not a necessary part of my
education.”

“Uh–huh. You’re a scientist; didn’t you dissect frogs and
pigeons, or some such?” Serros’s tone was jesting as she shot an inquisitive glance
in K’llan’s direction.

“Dissection is
not
the same as ingestion, I’m
afraid.”

“Well, not to worry. My required survival training will save
my digestion. Hopefully.” Though confident, Serros’s tone bespoke her lack of
enjoyment in the coming process as well.

Moving just outside the cave’s mouth and affixing an ejected
coil of rope from their kit on a left–protruding rock, Avara then tied the rope
around the neck of the beast and heaved the body up. “I assume you know how to start
that proper fire you built?”” She asked as she worked.

“Yes, made easier thanks to our laser.” K’llan answered,
both strangely fascinated and repulsed as she observed Avara insert the tip of her
flash–forged bowie knife into the jakhri’s pelvis, and then work the blade
upward to the sternum. A steady trickle then fount of blood dripped down to the
ground, the pattering of the liquid fusing with the fall of rain outside.

Still watching her companion, Z’arr moved to the fire–pit
she had constructed and used the miniature laser to set the tinder brightly
aflame within seconds.

“Good. I’ll warn you, given the differences between how our
peoples consume sustenance, my guess is you’ll find this to be quite unpleasant
to watch.”

Surveying the Human as she literally reached
into
the
slit flesh of the animal’s abdomen and methodically began pulling out organs,
the Vosaia could only agree as she quickly shifted her eyes, shuddering at the
sight and smell that assaulted her senses.

“Now might be a good time for you to gather some thin, flat
rocks or stones from outside, if you would.” Serros suggested helpfully, though
K’llan could hear the teasing note in her smooth alto.

“Um, yes, excellent suggestion, Captain; right to.” Despite
her fatigue and decided lack of desire to venture out into the rain again,
K’llan could hardly wait to escape the dressing of the carcass.

The rain water was warm on her skin as she moved once more
down the slope, searching for what she assumed would be suitable cooking
stones. It was strange, but even though these last days of striving through the
wilderness and being completely separated from their crewmates or the
conveniences of everyday life and quotidian technology had brought them closer,
the experience had also served to more starkly illuminate the differences
between the two women. As gifted and almost Vosaia–like as Avara was in regards
to intellectual achievement, empathic ability and emotional as well as cultural
sensitivity, she was still most certainly, Human.

With a sweet smile of remembrance, a hazy image of her
father rose into her mind. All bombastic emotion, generous smiles, and fueled
by very Human, impatient determination to move through life. Genetically, pairing
between Vosaia and other species that led to procreation resulted in children
who were primarily, hereditarily speaking, Vosaia.

Still, K’llan wondered, not for the first time, if a small portion
of the undeniable draw she felt towards Captain Serros was the echo of her own
father that she’d lost and the slight measure of her that was also Human.

Having deliberately taken her time so as to miss the finer
points of preparing supper, Z’arr returned thirty minutes or so later to find
the job mostly done and Avara carefully cleaning up. Without being asked, Z’arr
gingerly picked up the thick slabs of meat the Shield Operative had prepared
and placed them first on the flat river stones and then atop the ad–hoc rock
designed fire–grate, situated just above the flame. It did not take long for
the smells of sizzling meat to waft through the confines of the cave.

Almost immediately, Z’arr caught the sound of Serros’s
stomach as it rumbled in angry demand. With an embarrassed smile, Avara
shrugged and then picked up the remains of the carcass–skin that she had
deposited all of the entrails and waste into. “I’m going to clean up; shouldn’t
take long.”

At her nod, the Human exited the cave, pistol buckled at her
waist.

When she returned, K’llan could again see how very tired
Captain Serros truly was. Though she’d taken the time to fully clean herself
after the dressing of the animal, no amount of water could wash away the dark
circles that bruised her eyes, or how unusually drawn her complexion seemed.
Taking a heavily weighted seat before the snapping heat of the fire, Avara
placed her fingers so close to the flame that she risked burning.

K’llan could only quietly look on as Serros avidly stared as
the cooking meat, cinders playing in those dark–blue orbs like comets falling
through the night–sky. Finally, Avara simply snatched up mostly cooked meat, swiftly
devouring the cut yet still eating with a strange level of decorum for someone
who was literally starving. By the third consumed helping, a whisper–faint blush
of color could be seen returning to the Captain’s features, yet the pulsing
sense of deficit and craving was still undimmed.

Witnessing the Captain rapidly eat piece after piece of
sizzling, too–hot meat, the Vosaia was reminded yet again of her own hunger,
and found her eyes and soul riveted to Avara with an intensity that utterly
frightened her. Bruising her leg with her own hard–fingered grip to break the
spell that held her captive as she watched the person she cared for only too
deeply, K’llan forced herself to stand up and move, finding release in the warm–breeze
brushing through the cave’s entranceway.

Still positioned at her self–relegated post at the cavern’s
mouth, an hour or so later, K’llan heard Avara moving about. Turning her head, Z’arr
noted that the Captain was using the portable laser to efficiently desiccate
the remaining meat, dry it into a hard–textured yet more sustainable version
for travel.

Shifting her gaze back to the rain–blanketed vista before
her, she considered the fuller meaning behind the Captain’s meal. Serros had
consumed an entire third of the massive predator on her own and though she was
not at all practiced in the intake of such corporeal fare, K’llan knew the
amount was quite unusual. Basic need and Arca Enhancements demanding their due.

Sacrifice required for every gift, every breath one takes
.

“K’llan.”

Knowing what Avara was about to say, K’llan found that she
could not turn around, could not walk forward into the welcoming haven.

“K’llan, stop running.”

Choking back a sound that she herself could not quite
identify as either laughter or lament, Z’arr did turn around then, and found
herself moving towards the Human who sat calmly in the gravel by the
crack–snapping
fire–pit. At the Captain’s gesture, K’llan sat next to Serros, not touching yet
so close that she could feel Avara’s radiated heat across the sparsely
separating inches.

“Tell me what to do, K’llan.”

K’llan found the Human’s measured tone to be an almost
maddening counterpoint to the swirl of demanding emotion rippling through her
body. Fighting an urge to hold, possess, and release she’d never before encountered
or imagined, Z’arr once more tried to make Avara recognize the risk. “Captain,
be sure of what you are … offering. You are correct, I
am
starving, and
the danger is very real.”