"It was here," Jamie said. He had led Katherine and Smith to the place where his fellow Highlanders had disappeared. His companions had muttered about fools' errands and redcoats, but they had followed nonetheless. "I went over there a ways, and when I came back McTavish was gone."
"Have you been using a lot of wood recently?" Smith called. He'd wandered a few feet away, hidden behind the trees.
"No, why?" Jamie asked.
"Well, it's just that you seem to be missing a few trees," Smith replied grimly. The others approached and stopped dead.
Just past the thickest foliage lay a field of tree stumps, each cut at roughly Katherine's eye level. The deforested area was gigantic – at least a third of the once-great forest, Katherine estimated. Even the grass and undergrowth looked dead. The ground was riddled with deep pits and piles of dirt.
"It looks like a dog went on a rampage with a chainsaw and some weed killer," Katherine murmured, earning odd looks from the Highlanders.
Finally, Smith turned away and said to Katherine in a low voice, "Let's see what we can do to get back."
Katherine gaped at him. Pulling him aside, she demanded, "How exactly do you propose we do that? Put all these lovely, renegade Scots to work fixing technology we ourselves haven't got a freaking clue about?"
"Of course not-" Smith began, but Katherine was only just getting started.
"And what are we to do about this? You just want to leave these people in trouble?"
"You're a historian," Smith said coldly. "Shouldn't you be more concerned about preserving the timeline?"
"I am. This never happened." Katherine stared at Smith, unwilling to concede anything to this man. "You seemed interested in solving this mystery earlier."
Smith avoided her gaze. "That was a mistake."
"A mistake," Katherine repeated flatly. "Look, Private, I don't give a damn what sort of traumatizing experience you had with a tree stump. Something's wrong, and we'd be wrong too if we didn't at least try to help fix it."
Angrily, Smith sputtered, "You think I – That's not it at all!"
"So you're not afraid, then?" she challenged. "You're a better actor than I ever was, then, because you're doing a damn good job of pretending that you are."
"Well, of course I'm afraid! Every time – every time – I let someone come along, or let them work with me, they wind up hurt. They'd be better off if I never interfered, and here you are, dragging me into this again! I don't save people anymore!"
Katherine scoffed in disbelief and disgust. "So, basically, what you're saying is you're a selfish, cowardly tosser?"
"Yes, I – what?" Smith lost all of his steam in an instant.
"You don't want to let people in. Do they know what they're doing? Do they understand the risks involved?"
"Usually, I suppose, but I don't think –"
Katherine slapped him.
"Well, I doubt I'd ever 'follow' you, so you needn't worry on my account! Maybe it's worth the pain, Smith, to feel like you did something! Just maybe, you're terrified so you don't even want to try. You absolute bastard. It's not like your presence makes people want to help, you know. Some of us can care about others without your help. And even if it breaks you and me both, just think of who we might be saving."
Katherine was shaking with fury by the end of her speech. Smith was staring at her as though he'd never encountered such a reaction before.
It was an odd thought, but maybe he hadn't.
"Look," Katherine finished more calmly, aware of the curious men around them. "Maybe you're used to people who coddle you when you're sad, and scream at all the monsters, and pass you whatever you need. But you are not a superhero, and the last thing you will ever hear me say is 'Holy simpering sympathy, Batman!'"
She sighed heavily.
"You've got to earn it first."
Smith gaped at her for a few more seconds, which Katherine really wished he wouldn't do. She was already regretting her outburst, but it had to be said. Finally, Smith turned to Jamie and asked, "Did you hear anything?"
Jamie gave him a blank look. "What do you mean?"
"When he disappeared, did you hear anything?"
Katherine couldn't help it. She whooped loudly, punching the air.
The other Scots had returned to what passed for home, pleading disinterest in 'this madness'. The sun had begun to hide behind the trees, and Katherine wasn't entirely sure what she was doing.
Smith was in his element once he got going, flitting from tree stump to tree stump like the demented fairy of sci-fi, buzzing metal wand and all. Jamie followed him around, doing nothing to dispel the general air of puppy-dog-ness that Katherine was beginning to associate with the Scot. Smith would babble something that sounded incredibly technological and complex at Jamie, who would nod and reply with a comparison that was almost, but not quite, entirely unrelated to Smith's statement.
It was an interesting sort of symbiosis, to say the least.
It wasn't as though Katherine understood any of it, either. In fact she thought that Jamie seemed to grasp concepts very quickly, even though he probably hadn't had much of an education. It struck Katherine again just how little she knew about her new companions, with whom she'd most likely be spending the rest of her life.
To Katherine, this seemed to be something of a problem.
For her part, Katherine had combed every inch of the surrounding forest floor, drawing on half-forgotten summer camps in the "great Northwest" of America and blurry recollections of out-of-date field guides.
She was now intimately familiar with a variety of poop which could apparently be found in Scotland, but she remained no closer to understanding what had caused the destruction before her.
"Anything?" Katherine asked now, approaching the men.
"No," Smith replied grimly. "Just trees. No energy residues of any kind."
"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," Katherine muttered. She turned to Jamie. "And you? Apart from the obvious, is anything... off?"
"I couldn't find anything," Jamie replied.
Katherine sighed. "Great. Well, apparently someone needs to teach the local animals the science of latrines, but other than dung I've found absolutely nothing." She nudged a bit of the offending substance with the toe of her boot.
"What sort?" Smith asked.
Katherine blinked at him in surprise. "Erm... The smelly sort?" She wrinkled her nose, looking at the large, greyish pile in front of her. "I thought poo wasn't an appropriate topic to discuss with a woman. I'm pretty sure sexism's not anachronistic, at this point..."
Jamie and Smith were both ignoring her in favour of looking at the grey stuff with matching airs of confusion. Katherine thought that it was a little insulting to be less interesting than poop, but given the circumstances she supposed leniency was in order.
"I've never seen anything like this," Jamie said.
Frowning, Smith pointed his screwdriver at the pile. He snapped it back up, inches from his face, and squinted at the thing with an air of bemusement.
"It's not from any animal," he announced, to the astonishment of his audience. "There are minerals from the soil, and organic molecules – from the destroyed trees, I'd assume."
"Well? What does that mean?" Katherine prodded.
"It's waste from a spaceship."
Jamie, to his own confusion, wasn't particularly fazed by the idea of aliens nearby. It was worrying, but not terribly earth-shattering as long as they didn't try to take over the world – hopefully, these aliens could be deterred from reaching that stage.
He could tell that Katherine was stunned, though. The woman gawped at Smith, who was muttering something under his breath.
"Spaceship?" Katherine finally choked out. "As in, alien spaceship? How could we not know?"
"Well, you don't think you'd see a – a knight with a potato for a head walk into Glasgow," Jamie said. He wasn't quite sure where the example had come from, but he was positive that it made sense.
"No, I meant –" Katherine cocked her head and looked searchingly at Jamie. "You know, most people think of little green men."
"How many aliens are green?" Jamie retorted.
"Ah. Yes. Because armoured potatoes are realistic," Katherine muttered. "I just thought that- never mind."
"History has a habit of forgetting things," Smith added. Jamie felt his understanding of the conversation slip away again.
"Oi! It does not!" Katherine exclaimed, affronted for reasons Jamie could only guess at.
"Christmas in London," Smith shot back. "Were you ever there?"
"Aye, some of it –" Katherine answered.
"Was it ever a hoax, like they say, or not?"
Katherine scowled. "Point."
Jamie stared at them both. "You can't talk about Christmas when there are aliens loose, taking people! What does London have to do with any of this?"
"Absolutely nothing," Katherine told him.
"What-"
"We haven't got time for this. Where else did you find this?" Smith asked.
Katherine nodded to where the trees still stood, tall and strong and healthy. "By a shrub. Don't ask me what kind."
They approached the forest with caution. Jamie couldn't help but think about the last few times he'd come here. He hadn't mentioned it to Katherine or Smith, but every man who'd disappeared had one thing in common: they'd come to the forest with Jamie.
He hadn't told anyone, of course. By the time Jamie had realized it himself, the damage was done. Jamie still couldn't shake the feeling that this was all his fault and that he should have known better. Worst of all, Jamie was afraid he might be leading his newfound friends into danger.
Of course, Jamie couldn't exactly explain any of this to them or warn them away. Smith was now determined to figure out the answer to the mystery, and Katherine was definitely the most formidable woman Jamie could recall ever meeting.
"Is this it?" Smith asked, stopping. Katherine nodded and Smith aimed his – what was it? A screwdriver? – at the pile of slop.
"It's fresher," the other man announced. "Is there more?"
"Like smelly breadcrumbs," Katherine murmured. She led the way through the trees. "There's one over –" Her words cut off with a sudden squeak as she passed out of Jamie's view.
"Katherine!" Jamie cried. He and Smith scrambled forward. They froze when they reached the spot where they had last seen Katherine.
The woman was pressed up against a tree, fingers clutching at the bark. Before her, growling and snorting, stood a huge, scaly-skinned creature. It was shaped somewhat like a horse, if there were a kind of horse that had a three-foot-long protrusion from its skull and a severe under bite.
"Jamie," Katherine whispered, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat. "Jamie, I think I found your beastie."
