The rain did not let up for three days. The two women almost became reconciled to hearing nothing but the roar of the swollen watercourses and the thunder of the never-ending rain. There was little to do but talk.
One of the main topics of discussion was bitching about how to keep fungus from growing on their gear. Na'dia was paranoid about moisture getting into the optics of both the scope on the BFG, and Ninat's spotting scope - not that she could have done anything about it. She was relieved to see that her concerns were unfounded.
It was bad enough trying to remove the mould from their garments, minimal though they were, and the leather grips of their blades – let alone themselves. Ninat almost screamed with frustration from itching when she awoke with a nasty little infection on the second day. It sent her plunging out into the rain to collect some oily leaves from one of the bazillion Pandoran plants with medicinal uses.
Na'dia reflected it was one of the few advantages of living in a Na'vi/human hybrid body. The genetic engineers had obviously built in enhanced resistance against those horrible little fungi – an enhancement for which she was extremely grateful. She also noted with amusement that the heroines in adventure holovids never had to deal with these minor inconveniences, but declined to mention this fact to Ninat. Although she was the palulukan girl from beyond the stars, Na'dia still had some minor sense of self-preservation.
Avoidance of unwelcome visitors like Ninat's itch was the one of major reasons why the Na'vi wore so few clothes. That, and it was too damn hot most of the time to wear much anyway. This was one of the countless reasons why the Na'vi thought the tawtute uniltìranyu were so stupid.
So Ninat and Na'dia were surprised when they awoke to clear skies and a bright sun. Everything looked fresh, as though it had been washed in copious amounts of water – which, of course, it had.
It was surprising how quickly the ground dried out – the soil soaked the water up like a sponge – but the streams and rivers were not the same. They were swollen with oily looking brown water, instead of their usual crystal clear contents. Masses of forest debris were being dragged down to the sea by the raging watercourses. At the first stream they encountered, Na'dia looked doubtfully at the current – she was afraid of few things, but she did not want to even dip a toe in this stream. There was no point in taking stupid risks, no matter how far they had to go out of their way.
"We will have to find a crossing," said Ninat. "It is too dangerous to ford a stream when it flows brown and strong after heavy rains."
Na'dia responded, "I was going to suggest the very same thing."
Ninat grinned back at her. "I am glad to know that some knowledge has penetrated that thick uniltìranyu skull of yours," she teased. "It seems even the most hopeless skxawng can learn if you repeat a lesson many times."
"Thank you very much for your words of wisdom," retorted Na'dia.
The swollen rivers turned what was usually a week's journey into one lasting over three weeks. It was the first time Na'dia regretted that she had never linked with an ikran and become taronyu – if she had, she could have flown over all of this flooding. There was only one problem. She could not see how any ikran would have submitted to forming a bond with her. The only animal she had linked with was her pa'li, and she had sent it insane, for it thought Na'dia was a palulukan. And to all intents and purposes, except for her body she was a palulukan, a thanator, for she carried almost three thousand years of the memories and knowledge of her sensei - one of the strongest and wisest of the Pandora's apex predator.
The landscape had become very familiar. Ninat commented, "We are almost there."
"Srane," replied Na'dia. Suddenly, she held up her hand, her ears twitching. "What was that?"
Ninat stopped her pa'li alongside Na'dia's, and they both listened carefully. "Someone is hurt," said Ninat. She plunged off her pa'li and into the undergrowth, closely followed by Na'dia.
They came across a wounded uniltìranyu, a woman that Na'dia knew well. She was gasping for breath, blood and air bubbling out of an ugly bullet wound in her chest.
"Zhess'ika," cried Na'dia. "Toktor Fleming, what happened?" Only last year this woman had chosen to pass through the Eye of Eywa, so that she could mate with one of the Ikran people from the Eastern Sea.
Ninat said, "Silence. She cannot talk, skxawng. Go back to the pa'li and get my medicines."
Na'dia did as she was told. Only a few seconds later she returned with a beautiful wooden box, inlaid with many iridescent seashells, undid the catch and flipped it open.
Ninat had just finished checking her back. She said to the wounded woman. "Zhess'ika, the tawtute stone is still inside you. If I do not remove it you will die. Do you understand?"
The woman nodded weakly.
"I will cause you great pain, but I cannot give you relief," continued Ninat. "It is too dangerous." She took a leather strap with many teeth marks indented on the smooth surface. "Bite down on this to stop you biting your tongue off. Na'dia, hold her down."
Ninat selected a bone retractor that would not have looked out of place in the most high technology surgery, so beautifully was it made. She used it to spread the edges of the puckered wound, making the woman shudder, and without looking or any hesitation grabbed another instrument, and started probing the wound.
The woman arched her back in agony, biting down hard on the leather strap. Na'dia reflected that the Omaticaya had far too much knowledge of how to treat bullet wounds, when Ninat whispered, "Got it." She carefully extracted the forceps she was using to probe the wound, to display a distorted bullet between their jaws. Na'dia silently thanked the fact that the humans had stopped using hollow point bullets, mainly because they found that the bone armour carried by many Pandoran animals was proof against them.
Red blood started to flood out of the wound. Ninat ordered, "Cauteriser."
The only thing of human manufacture was a rod of metal with a wooden handle. Na'dia placed it on a broad leaf, and then carefully covered the rod with a grey powder from a pottery jar. Then from a small glass bottle, she carefully spilled one drop of liquid on to the powder, shutting her eyes just before they touched. She felt a sudden flare of heat on her face, and opened her eyes to see Ninat grab the cauteriser, and plunge the hot metal rod into the wound, just as Na'dia grabbed the woman's wrists and held them to the earth..
A stink of burning flesh filled the air as the woman gave a short scream and passed out.
"She is tough, this one," said Ninat, as she withdrew the cauteriser. "Most would have lost awareness when I probed." She examined the cauteriser to make sure that no tissue had adhered to the hot metal, and then added, "You can let go now, Na'dia."
"Is she going to be alright?" asked Na'dia.
"I think so," said Ninat. She selected another pottery jar, and tapped out orange powder on to another leaf. She added a few drops of water, and stirred it into the powder with a wooden spatula, producing a sticky, resinous mass. She quickly spread it over the wound, before it hardened into a translucent, flexible membrane within ten seconds. "Zhess'ika will be able to breath now. I just thank Eywa that she was not wearing tawtute garments – cloth fragments would set in the wound and rot, killing her."
"We cannot move her," said Na'dia. "We should set up camp here, but I will not light a fire."
"That is wise," responded Ninat. "A fire could alert an enemy to our presence."
Neither of them spoke of who such an enemy might be.
A few minutes after Na'dia had finished setting up a rudimentary camp, Zhessika came to. "Thank you," she whispered, grimacing from pain.
Ninat asked, "What happened, Zhess'ika?"
"This morning, I flew my ikran to see Max," said Zhess'ika, her Na'vi overlaid with a heavy kiwi accent. "At Hell's Gate, I saw many uniltìranyu carrying weapons – hundreds of them. They shot and wounded me. I tried to fly away, but slipped from Snu'pe and fell. A lucky shot – they did not hit my Snu'pe. I ran from where I fell and hid – I could hear them lumbering through the forest, searching for me."
"Do not talk now," said Ninat. "I will give you something now for pain, to help you sleep."
The wounded woman nodded slowly. "Irayo," she whispered.
Zhess'ika slipped into a deep sleep shortly after being drinking the infusion that Na'dia prepared.
"How long before we can move her?" asked Na'dia.
"Three, may be four days," answered Ninat. "She will have to ride."
It still surprised Na'dia how quickly the Na'vi healed from serious wounds – including the rough and ready surgery that Ninat had inflicted on the wounded Zhess'ika. They were incredibly tough and resilient. "How well will she heal?" asked Na'dia curiously.
"Well enough," said Ninat. "She will have trouble breathing when flying her ikran very high, or running long distances, but otherwise should hardly notice the wound once it is healed."
"How soon can she ride her ikran?" asked Na'dia intensely, adding, "It will be easier on her to fly rather than be subjected to the rough gait of a pa'li. Zhessika could be with the Omaticaya in three hours if she flew."
"You are right, Na'dia," said Ninat, a frown on her face. "It would be better for her – as long as she did not fall."
Na'dia said grimly, "I have another reason for her to fly. Zhake needs to hear this news."
"You will be going to Hell's Gate, alone, to look at the uniltìranyu," stated Ninat, knowing that she had to take care of the wounded woman.
Na'dia drew her blades and examined the edges. It seemed that Grace had been right. There would be war again, and she was going to be right in the middle of it.
"Yes."
