Evening had come. Two figures sat beside a roaring firepit waiting for their meal to cook. Behind them in an unused corner of the base all of Allena's things sat stacked neatly against the wall. Wilson had carried everything over in just two trips, insisting that his new base-mate take it easy and rest while he did all the heavy lifting.
Allena had been telling him all about the modern world for the last hour. Prior to that she'd gone through every article she'd brought with her, each and every one delighting Wilson more than the last.
"So you can store entire books on a device as small as a paperback novel?"
"Yup," Allena responded. "I didn't bring it with me but when we get home you're welcome to use it."
His eyes flashed with longing and she imagined he was considering all the different subjects he'd like to pursue. "What sorts of books do you have on it?"
She tapped the side of her head as she racked her memory. "Mostly fiction. Some classics, but mostly modern stuff. Horror, fantasy, sci-fi. I do have a few interesting books on psychology and some political commentary."
"Classical fiction? Horror? Political commentary? Goodness, most of the women I knew stuck primarily to silly romances."
She laughed. "Oh, yeah, there are still plenty of those around. I'd say romance never appealed to me, but to be fair I've never even given the genre a try. I might like it if I gave it a chance, but honestly…a couple of people gazing longingly into each other's eyes?" She clasped her hands over her heart and put on a simpering expression, then dropped with it a noise of mild impatience. "I'll stick to dinosaurs and monsters and crazy technology that threatens to wipe out the human race, thank you very much."
Wilson's mouth quirked up into a smile. "You'll have to introduce me to some of your favorites. I've never had much time for fiction, but perhaps I, too, would like it if I 'gave it a shot'."
She thought he would. "I'll introduce you to Michael Crichton. I think you'll love him. Lots of stuff about the hubris of scientists and whatnot."
"Hubris of scientists? No idea what you're talking about."
She laughed. She truly couldn't wait to show Wilson everything the modern world had to offer. Nothing daunted him, nothing intimidated him. Everything was an opportunity.
"So," Allena said, turning to more practical matters. "I don't think I'll be able to do much strenuous work until my injury heals, but I can definitely help with some things. Perhaps I can spend tomorrow crafting tools or weaving rope? Does your spider silk need spinning? Oh, I'd love to learn how to craft those snares. Maybe you could show me how?"
At the mention of snares Wilson coughed, nearly spilling the cup of water he'd just raised to his lips. "Ah, yes, the snares. You were trying to figure them out yesterday when I first saw you, yes? I saw the notes you were making."
Allena winced at the fiasco. "Yeah. I didn't get very far."
Wilson's jaw clenched as though he were trying to hold back a laugh – then released as it became a bit too much to contain. "Heh…hehehe! I'm sorry, but when you planted your hand in the snare…that was the funniest thing I'd seen since arriving here! He! Hehehehehe!"
His laughter sounded strange, as though he were unaccustomed to mirth, but it was clearly genuine. Allena rolled her eyes, shoving down a chuckle of her own. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You're lucky I didn't have my knife with me at the time, or that trap of yours would have been so much sliced up grass."
"Yes, and no doubt you'd have punched a few holes in me had I tried to offer you my hand. I do apologize for startling you."
She shrugged. "It's fine. It all worked out for the better, anyways. Say, if you don't mind my asking, what do all of your machines do? And what sorts of things do you study here?" She'd been studying his lab out of the corner of her eye throughout their conversation, and was at a loss as to the functions of his many devices.
He grabbed a spoon and stirred the large iron pot in front of them. Stew for dinner that night, and likely for breakfast tomorrow. He pointed to one of his creations. "That machine spins silk." He pointed to another. "That one breaks objects down into their primary components so that I may better understand some of the substances and devices I come across, and therefore discover new ways in which I may combine their constituent materials. The alchemy engine," he said while gesturing to yet another machine, this one bulbous and round, "is a bit more complicated, but suffice to say it aids me in more challenging pursuits. As for what I study, I could go into great detail – and no doubt I shall, in time. For now, however, suffice to say I have but two fields of study. The art of survival and the understanding of the forces that brought me here."
Allena nodded. "I see. I doubt I'll be able to offer much help on that front, but I'd be happy to help with maintenance and gathering once I recover. If I can take over some of the menial, day-to-day tasks perhaps you can spend more time and energy on your research?"
His eyes wandered away from his machines and across his tool racks and baskets of materials. "Ah, help with the menial tasks? That…well, yes, that would certainly be nice." He started lightly snapping his fingers. "It does require most of my time and energy simply to keep this base safe and comfortable. It can be rather discouraging, exhausting every ounce of time and energy just to avoid falling behind. Sometimes I finish the day's work with plenty of time for research and simply not enough energy to make any headway."
She nodded sympathetically. "That must be rough. A genius with no time to think."
He sighed. "Quite. Oh, how nice it will be to be in the modern world again. Yes, it's settled. We'll give your injury a few days to heal, then I'll show you around the daily chores, yes?"
She shifted her aching shoulder and pain flared up again. "Sure, but do you really think it will only take a few days? I know your treatment of me was really excellent, but injuries like that take time, don't they? Not to mention the blood loss."
Wilson stirred the pot, tested the meat, and pulled out some bowls and spoons. Looked like dinner was done. "Things work a bit differently here. Salves and poultices have nearly preternatural healing properties. Even torn muscles and fractured bones heal rapidly if you only take the time to treat them."
He dished them up some stew, giving Allena a particularly large bowl. She responded to his comment offhandedly. "Huh. Maybe the powers that be consider recovery-time boring. Want us to either die or get right back to the struggle. Thank you for the stew. It smells amazing."
He blew on a spoonful and took a small sip. "Ah, I think I did well on this batch. Yes, I've gotten the sense that whatever the entity that brought us to this place – perhaps Maxwell, perhaps not – its primary concern is its own entertainment. This place has a somewhat…crafted feel, yes?"
She took a sip of her own stew. It tasted as good as it smelled. "You mean the fact that people tend to start out in areas that give them a leg up, that the landscape looks like a jigsaw puzzle, and that islands can apparently appear on the basis of convenience? Nah, no idea what you're talking about."
He chuckled again. "Well, that's what I've been working on. Thus far my studies are someone stunted due to my lack of nightmare fuel."
She tilted her head. "Of…what?"
"Nightmare fuel," he responded as he took a long sip of soup.
"You're short on nightmare fuel? Sorry, I don't have any, but I have plenty of elbow grease."
He shook his head. "No, no. Nightmare fuel is what the Shadows are made of. You were acquainted with the worst of them last night."
She shivered. "You mean that thing that…oh!"
She'd just remembered – her phone would be charged by then. She'd be able to see what exactly she'd snapped pictures of, if anything. She hopped up and went over to her solar battery. "When I was running I used the flash on my phone to fend off that thing. I may have gotten some pictures."
He shook his head again. "I sincerely doubt it. I image that Shadow is much like the others here. Nebulous. They only appear when one's mind is frayed and the spirit is low and hopeless. I've been in a few such situations before, and it wasn't pretty. I managed to harvest a fair bit of their remnants, but it all went into creating the devices I now use to study and refine the fuel further. But I'm out, and I have no intention of actively seeking out more…is that the camera you told me about?"
He raised an eyebrow, still skeptical, as she detached her phone from the battery. Before she pulled up her pictures she snapped one of his expression, which was highly amusing. She turned the phone around to show him the image.
His eyebrows, already raised, shot up even higher. "Good heavens! It is a camera, isn't it? Still, I doubt you got any viable pictures of the Shadow, though we can check if you'd like."
She nodded. Crossing her fingers, she swiped back to view the previous picture.
Her brows furrowed, as did Wilson's. The imagine in the photo was badly blurred and mostly black, but there was a color there that she hadn't been expecting. A light, pale peach.
The color of human skin.
Wilson's mouth dropped open. "Is that…?"
She swiped back again. This time it was clearer – a definite human form, clad in black but with a definite face, still too blurred for good recognition.
They glanced at each other and she swiped back one more time.
This picture was almost perfect. A woman lunging out of the darkness, arms thrown back like some absurd anime character. Her entire body was jet-black, as was her short hair, but her face was unmistakably human, mouth split in a wide grin. Except for the eyes. They 'whites' of her eyes were black as pitch, broken only by glowing snake-slit pupils.
She whistled. "So. That's the, uh…monster that stalks the night here, huh?"
Wilson looked baffled. "That can't be right! I was envisioning some hulking, clawed shadow-beast like the other ones!"
She clicked the phone off to save battery power. "Um. Sorry?"
"The ones that show up when you start to go insane."
She swallowed heavily. "Man, you're really going to have to fill me in on what this world has to offer."
"In time," he said as he set his bowl aside to ponder their newest discovery. "How strange. I'd assumed that all of the shadows were simply inhuman monstrosities, perhaps the nightmarish craft of Maxwell himself. But for one to be human, at least in part…perhaps she's related in some way to Maxwell?"
Allena looked at the picture again. The woman was rather pretty aside from the homicidal gleam in her snake-eyes. "I don't know. Maybe we can ask him the next time we see him. How often does he pop in?"
Wilson snorted. "I've seen him perhaps twice since I came here, excluding his gracious welcome to the world. Honestly. 'Hey pal, you don't look so good…' The insufferable…!"
Allena took a large gulp of stew and almost choked. Too hot. She chugged some water and cleared her throat. "So he's not very interested in us, huh?"
Wilson picked up his bowl again, poking at the stew with his spoon. "Oh, no, I think he is. He just doesn't like to show it. I get the odd feeling that he's looking for someone, or something. Perhaps waiting for one of us to…I don't know. Accomplish something other than survival. From what I heard from the other survivors he doesn't check up on anyone but me. Some people didn't even know his name, and a few of them he didn't even bother to greet."
"Wow. So what makes you different?"
Wilson sniffed haughtily. "Well, I'm a genius, aren't I? And likely the most accomplished survivor here. I'm surprised he doesn't drop in on me for tea every week. Not that I'd humor him if he did, the bastard."
At once he blushed and covered his mouth politely. "Pardon the language."
She snorted her soup. "Uh, oh. If that's what you consider rough language then you're in for an unpleasant surprise when you get back."
"I take it profanity is somewhat more common?"
"Oh, like you wouldn't believe."
They continued to chat as they ate their stew and the stars came out above their heads. Allena finished her bowl and, during a lull in the conversation, leaned back off of her seat and propped herself up on her uninjured arm. She tilted her head back and looked up at the sky. "You know, this place may be dangerous, but it sure it beautiful. The stars here are incredible."
"Quite. Still, each time I look up I long for the night I'll see Orion, Cassiopeia, Ursa Major…I miss our own constellations."
She looked back at him. "I take it this sky doesn't have any of ours?"
He shook his head sadly and looked down at the fire.
Allena sat up and pushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. Though he clearly wasn't the type of man to wallow in self-pity, she could hear the weight of his incarceration place a somewhat heavier tone on his voice.
Her heart skipped a beat. On an impulse she stood, walking around the fire and sitting down beside him. Then she laid down carefully on her back. "You know, if this world doesn't have any constellations, maybe we could make a few of our own?"
He turned to her, tilting his head slightly. "Make our own?"
She nodded and looked back up at the sky, eyes darting around the bright pinpoints of light.
He was still for a moment. Then, slowly, he leaned back and laid down beside her. He was very close. Her attention to the stars wavered slightly as his arm brushed hers. "Well, I've noticed that there is something of a north star…perhaps we could start there?"
"Point it out to me."
He did so, and before long they were busy at work tracing constellations.
"Oh, that cluster of stars there looks like spider's eyes. And I can almost make out all the legs, can't you?"
"Where – next to the north star?"
"A bit below that."
"Ah, I see it! And over on the other side, look at that pillar of stars snaking up – like one of those tentacle monsters."
"Heh, indeed. I'll have to take care of that thing this week, they're quite the nuisance. Ah, look there – two eyes, the body, a bright fluffy tail and the prongs above the eyes – a rabbit!"
"That's right, the rabbits have antlers here. We call that a jackalope back home."
She wasn't sure how long they laid there tracing out constellations wherever their imaginations suggested a familiar shape, but before too long her lids were drooping and her yawns were becoming more frequent.
"Hmm, that one looks like…oh, dear, perhaps it's time for bed."
Her eyes had closed, and she blinked them open. "No, I'm f-f-f-fine," she said, voice haltered by her yawn.
"Nonsense," he said while sitting up. "You need your rest."
He sat up and offered her a black-gloved hand. She took it and he lifted her lightly to her feet, arm wrapping around her waist to steady her as she stood shakily. He led her to her sleeping bag, which he had set up beneath a makeshift lean-to in the corner near his tent. "Your sleeping bag will keep you warm, yes? It has started to cool off these last few nights."
She unzipped her bag and kicked off her shoes. "It'll be fine. It's really high quality. If anything, I've gotten too warm at times."
"Well, you won't have that problem come winter. And winter is coming, make no mistake."
She snuggled up in the bag, shifting to ensure her shoulder wasn't bothered. "Does it snow here?"
"Yes, ten feet deep! And the frogs freeze solid, the stew turns to ice the moment it's off the fire, the rabbits go white, the beefalo shiver…"
Ugh. His tone may have been jesting, but she wasn't laughing. She'd always hated the cold. Well, at least she'd mostly prepared for it. "Sounds lovely," she said drily. "Night, Wilson."
He chuckled. "Goodnight. Sleep well, and let me know if you require anything."
She watched from her bag as he tidied up their dishes, stocked the fire, and retired to his tent, glancing over at her one last time and nodding deeply when he saw she was watching.
She considered her new circumstance as she drifted off into unconsciousness. Solid walls at her back, a bright and well-kept fire to ward off the shadows, abundance and variety of food…
And Wilson.
Her mouth turned up in a slight smile. For the first time since arriving she fell asleep with nothing but bright anticipation for the day to come.
Wilson was right – the healing salves did wonders for her injury.
It took only two days of regular applications of the spider-gland salve for the wound to close up. The injury still stung, but it was no longer debilitating. Once the injury was healed Wilson set to showing her the ropes in earnest.
"You're already quite good at weaving basic ropes, but let me show you how to do the thinner ones for the snares. Look, I use small amounts of this glue to make sure the weave is particularly strong in spite of its thinness. Don't worry, I have plenty of that, it's really quite easy to make…"
Wilson was finally showing her how the snares were made. He'd picked up the notes she'd dropped on their first encounter, and had just returned them to her. "Do you use the glue to make normal ropes?"
"No," he replied as he finished the weave on the snare-rope. "Well, occasionally yes, but not for basic things like tools and such. A long, thick, reinforced rope is one of the things on my to-do list, but it just isn't feasible at the moment. Plenty of grass, not enough time. Perhaps next spring, though."
He pointed with his thumb to a list on the wall above one of his workbenches. She'd noticed it before, but hadn't known what it was. On it was a list of things he evidently wanted to procure or accomplish.
Regular honey access – beekeeper's hat?
Waterproof bag – frog skin? Glue?
Rope, 7m, reinforced.
Nightmare fuel. Rabbits, low sanity. Creepy flowers?
And a few other things that she understood even less than the last one. She took a keen interest in that board, and wondered if she might be able to manage one of them for him.
Over the next week Wilson showed her everything that needed doing, and she took over all of the basic resource gathering. Well, almost all of it.
Wilson pulled a spear off the wall and slung it across his back. "Well, I'm off. Although silk is one of the few resources that are easy to come by in winter I still want to stock up. Glands, too. I imagine we can expect twice as many injuries this winter, at least."
She sat on her sleeping bag with a selection of flint, sticks, and rope beside her. "Are you sure you don't want me coming with you? I'd be happy to learn how to kill spiders."
Lie. She did not want to go anywhere near them. Wilson, thankfully, was chivalrous in the extreme and refused to even entertain the thought of having her march off to fight monsters. "I'll teach you some basic defense once your shoulder is one-hundred percent healed, but leave the spiders and beefalo to me."
She had no problem accepting the judgement. As far as she was concerned, giant spiders and stampeding, horned beasts were best left to strong men with pointy sticks. "Alright, have fun. Bring me back a trophy commemorating your glorious hunt."
"Hrmph. Glorious hunt, indeed. Spiders are hardly worth the time, my dear. I'll bring you back a necklace of hound's teeth, or a tallbird eye sometime. Something more worthy of a mighty hunter such as myself!"
He bowed deeply and departed, leaving her grinning in his wake. She no longer feared his jaunts into the forest. She'd seen him dispatch the tentacle beast the other day without getting a scratch on him and had been quite in awe of his skill and agility. She'd told him as much, heaping praises on him all the way back to camp and pressing him for stories of past hunts and fights all evening by the fire, which he'd happily obliged. He'd practically been glowing ever since.
A while later she tied off the last knot on the last tool – a pickaxe – and walked over to place her creations on the tool shelf. Wilson always needed more pickaxes – they wore down quickly and he needed a lot of stone to maintain and improve upon his base. Their base.
She set it beside the others and pondered what to do next. Wilson would be an hour or two getting silk and glands and she'd finished all of the basic chores for that day. It was late afternoon and he'd told her to take the rest of the day off and do as she pleased. They would need to hunker down and work hard during fall to prepare for winter, but they still had a bit of time to relax and enjoy the last vestiges of summer. She was glad – the world, for all its difficulties, was beautiful and she was enjoying exploring it.
As she turned from the tool shelf she saw Wilson's extra spear on the wall. He'd made it only recently in anticipation of teaching her basic defense, but she hadn't even touched it yet. Now she walked over and picked it up, twirling it in her hands. She'd done a bit of baton-twirling in her high-school marching band, and she found the skills translated fairly well to the spear once she got used to the weight of the spearhead. She twisted it and twirled it, jabbing the air experimentally a few times.
As she looked at it she recalled that, of all the delicacies Wilson had shared with her so far, she had not seen frog legs on the menu. He'd mentioned that he'd never had much to do with the frogs besides testing their skin for crafting quality. It wasn't very good.
She was suddenly filled with ambition. As much as Wilson expressed appreciation at her helping with day-to-day tasks – and he lauded her for her help as much as she did for his combat skills – she wanted to bring something new to the table.
She decided she would chance the frogs. With the tentacle gone she wouldn't have much to worry about, she was sure.
She grabbed some supplies and a fishing pack and headed towards the swamp. Soon she stood on the edge of it, the neat line of grass giving way to squishy, murky-brown soil just an inch before her toes. She set her pack down and gripped her spear tighter as she eyes the amphibious cretins before her.
Like the spiders, they were about the size of dogs. Their back legs were thick and powerful, and Allena suspected they would provide a wonderfully meaty meal. She wasn't sure when her mouth had started to water every time she looked at animals, but it hadn't taken very long.
She waited a short while, picking out a good target. Wilson had told her how important it was to make a choice and stick to it, because other members of a pack, herd, or swarm were apt to attempt to draw your attention away from your quarry and make you lose them all.
She picked one out. It had an unusually short tongue and particularly thick legs. It was right near the edge of the swamp, too.
She'd already thought about how she would tackle them, and had made her decision. Gripping her spear tightly she waited until the frog hopped just a bit farther from its pond…and ran at it full tilt, spear ready for a downward thrust.
It turned towards her just as she reached it, and readied for a tongue lash. She thrust down with all her might at its head…
…and the spear bounced right off, leaving the frog more or less unscathed.
She hopped to the side just as the tongue shot out, and drew back her spear. The rebound had caused a bad twinge in her shoulder, but nothing serious. Alright, if the head was too well protected, she'd have to go for a softer target. The eyes? The belly?
She decided on the eyes first. The toad let out a deep, rumbling croak after its tongue settled back into its mouth following its missed attack, and Allena took the opportunity to lunge again. This time the spear sank a couple of inches, eliciting a deeper, angry croak. Again its tongue shot out, and again Allena dodged out of the way, withdrawing the spear.
The toad hopped forward suddenly, almost overbalancing her, and she realized that she may have bitten off more than she could chew. Not only was the toad proving difficult to kill…the croaks seemed to have riled all of its friends.
They were bounding steadily towards her, one leap at a time. She had time enough for one more jab at the very most before they reached her.
She gritted her teeth and thrust the spear out once more. This time she didn't bother with the head, but instead tried the underbelly and prayed it was softer than the back hide.
It was. A single slash and the toad's entrails popped out like stuffing from a teddy bear. It was revolting, and it sprayed a fine mist of foul green slime as it died. She leaped backwards and fled.
She felt the sharp jab of a tongue on her back, but other than that she escaped unscathed. The toads wouldn't follow her far onto the grassland. Once they were gone she would return, drag the dead toad out of the swamp, and butcher it.
Sure enough the toads left off quickly, uninterested in vengeance for their fallen amphibious friend. As she stopped and turned about she found she was breathing hard and trembling in exhilaration. Maybe it wasn't a giant spider, but it was the first real kill she'd made aside from fish.
The frogs calmed down quickly and Allena jogged back to the swamp, grabbed the toad, and dragged it onto the grass as one or two of its comrades eyed her angrily. At least they seemed angry. They may have just been hungry.
The toad had flopped onto its belly which made it easy to gut. She quickly removed the entrails and began sawing at the legs, hoping they weren't too grisly or bony.
She pulled one off, examined it, and smiled widely. It looked amazing. A single frog would be enough to tide her over for a meal, though Wilson would probably be able to eat four or five legs all by himself.
She eyed the frogs back and decided that now that she knew how to kill them, and if she was careful, she may at least be able to get two or three more before Wilson was due back.
She nodded to herself, picked up her spear, and started scouting out another target.
A couple hours later Allena was back at base. She saw movement at the entrance and looked up from the fire to see Wilson strolling back into camp. His eyes sought her out immediately and widened as he saw that she already had dinner on the griddle. "Ah! Wonderful, I'm starving! I don't suppose…wait…what is that you're cooking there?"
His peered curiously at the crooked chunks of meat. She answered nervously, trepid of his reaction. "Frog legs. I'm not sure if they're any good, but I've tried them back home and they're delicious. I thought we might give them a try here. That's why I started cooking early, so we can make something else if it doesn't pan out…"
He set his spear beside her own on the wall. "What? Frog legs? Where did you get them?"
She cleared her throat as she turned one of the legs. "I thought I would give that spear a try and went out and hunted them myself." She'd grown increasingly worried that he would flip out when she told him about her solo-hunting trip, so she found herself stammering out an explanation in an attempt to tone the story down a bit. "I mean, you know them, they're not very fast, and I've had experience with them before, while fishing, you know? And I was very careful not to let myself get surrounded, I stayed on the outside, they got in a couple of licks but nothing serious, it'll just be a few bruises, and my shoulder is fine."
She took a deep breath to go on, but before she could Wilson came over and sat down to examine the legs. "You killed these? All on your own? And look at this! Eight legs, four frogs! I must admit, I hadn't taken you for a huntress, but…"
He leaned forward and sniffed them. At once he swallowed. "Oh, my. Those smell…rather tantalizing. I have heard they're a delicacy in some cultures."
His eyes rolled back and closed as he took a deep whiff of the sizzling legs. Allena had been rather encouraged by the smell as well, and was now doubly so. It seemed Wilson wasn't upset. "Yeah, I have high hopes. So, did your spider hunt go well?"
He waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, fine! Not as much silk as I'd have hoped but plenty of glands. That's the important thing. What about you? You're quite certain you're alright? Tell me, did you figure out to hit their bellies?"
She nodded and, thrilled that he was so eager to hear about her experience, told him all about it as the spoils of her hunt grilled over the open flame.
He listened raptly, occasionally asking questions and wincing when she described getting hit. Overall he was a splendid audience. When she finished the story he brought his hands together and started clapping excitedly. "Oh, wonderful! Stupendous! Here I thought I was lucky enough just to have some pleasing company. Doubly lucky to have access to the treasury of tools you brought along. Triply so to discover that you possessed at least basic survival skills, enough to help me with my chores. But such initiative, such vivacity! You are truly a credit to your gender, Miss Jones. Tell me, are all the women in your time such impressive specimens?"
She covered her face and started bubbling with laughter. "I've never been considered a terribly impressive specimen back home, so I really couldn't tell you. A credit to my gender, though. Wow. That is…quite a compliment."
She once again chirruped with laughter and Wilson looked a bit concerned. "I haven't said anything wrong, have I?"
She reached out to start turning the legs on their roasting sticks as she replied. "I suppose it depends on who you ask. I know there are some women back home who would probably be offended by that compliment. Don't worry," she said hastily as a dismayed looked crossed his face. "I'm not one of them. Really, consider me flattered."
He opened his mouth as though to say something but closed it again. He stared into the fire for a while before shaking his head. "Hm. I wonder how much I'll have to learn to fit in properly to your society. No doubt social standards have changed quite a bit."
"Yeah," she said. "Did you know we got the right to vote?"
"That passed?! Good heavens, that was going through the senate when I left, I always wondered whether it got through. They amended the constitution for it, yes?"
"Yup."
"Huh! No wonder you're interested in politics. Tell me, are you lot allowed to run for public office as well?"
She chortled and began filling him in on a bit of the modern political climate as she finished turning the frog legs.
Half an hour later they were holding the legs in front of them and examining them cautiously. Wilson poked at his a few times. "It smells so good. I truly hope it doesn't take after spider meat."
"Or poison us," Allena added with forced cheer as she looked at her own leg.
Finally Wilson sighed, took a deep breath, and bit into the steaming leg.
Allena's stomach dropped as his eyes popped open and he began to chew very, very slowly. The look on his face certainly suggested some sort of extreme input.
"This is…" he swallowed properly and looked the leg over again. Then he smiled widely. "This is delicious! Good heavens, I've had these hopping about on my doorstep for two years and I never even thought to taste them! They're wonderful! Oh, I must see if I can jerkify these! Frog-leg jerky all winter! Delightful!"
Surprised but pleased, Allena dug into her own leg. Sure enough, it was the best frog leg she'd ever had. "Wow, these are good."
She finished hers and had two more, but insisted that Wilson eat the rest. "Really, I'm stuffed. Enjoy."
He didn't take much convincing. Not long after, bones and tendons lay discarded by the firepit and they laid back to pat their stomachs as the sun began to lower outside the base.
Just as Allena was starting to relax Wilson sat up suddenly and said, "Say, would you like to go watch the sunset? I don't have the time to very often, but it's really quite a treat. So long as you have a torch handy for when the sun actually sets, that is."
She sat up and looked at him. It was really a simple request, just a casual stroll and a nice view; still, she didn't have to read all those gushy love stories to know that sunsets held certain romantic connotations.
She shook herself. Wilson was clearly not interested in her that way. It was a friendly suggestion, nothing more. "Yes, that sounds nice. Let's go."
She hopped up and grabbed her flashlight in addition to Wilson's torch. Happily, the flashlight was also compatible with her solar battery and would therefore last as long as the solar panel.
They set out towards the ridge. Allena pointed out the piles of frog remains on their way in case Wilson wanted to go over them tomorrow for usable materials.
They got to the ridge that marked the end of the landmass. Allena picked out a comfortable spot and sat down on the grass, dangling her feet over the edge. Her heels bumped the rocky siding and she looked down at the tide beneath her. It roiled calmly against the stone a few feet below her toes, and she saw nothing of interest in the clear, dark water.
Wilson sat down beside her. She was vaguely surprised at how close – they were only a couple of inches apart. She knew that the concept of personal space differed based on era and culture. Perhaps people from his era were simply accustomed to narrower boundaries.
She found she didn't mind. Her pulse sped up a bit, though.
Oh, calm down. It's just a sunset.
They were silent for several minutes. Eventually the sun began to fall beneath the horizon before them, turning the clouds pink and gold. Suddenly, he spoke. "It really is nice here, isn't it?"
"Mhmm," she hummed in response. They'd leaned back to brace themselves on their hands, and she was very aware of the fact that his fingers were less than an inch from her own.
Stop it!
"I mean," he continued. "I haven't really gotten much of a chance to appreciate the beauty of this place. I've started to notice it a bit more, though, just recently."
She made another noise of simple acknowledgement, too lost in her own thoughts. He only means that he has more time to spend enjoying it, what with all the chores you've been helping with. What did you think he meant…?
He coughed slightly. "I suppose this world does have some definite upsides. Good food, abundant resources, m-many lovely sights. This place really did seem to be designed with the blueprints of human survival in mind–"
Blueprints…?
"–and in spite of the things I've endured these last few years I really don't have entirely too much to complain about. Especially now. I m-mean, I of course can't wait to get home, but–"
!
She jumped up just as the sun dipped below the horizon. "Oh! Oh, my goodness, Wilson, I've just remembered, I can't believe I forgot–"
He scrambled to his feet after her as she turned to head back to base. "What? What is it?"
Her heart was pounding in her chest. She'd recalled something he'd said in passing during their first real conversation.
…he shoved a bundle of raw information into my head – all sadly gone now, it seemed to leak away within days of my arrival and I retained no records of it…
She hurried back to camp, Wilson close beside her pressing her for the reason for her sudden excitement, but she said nothing until she reached her backpack. She unzipped the main compartment pushed a few things out of the way, and found what she was looking for. Her fingers wrapped along a long, narrow tube. She tugged this out and popped the top off of it.
As she shook the papers out of the tube she said, "I grabbed this out of one of the old filing cabinets in the archives before I left. I thought it might help me understand your machine better, but I couldn't make heads or tails of it. You said you lost all the information Maxwell gave you, and I wonder if this might be at all helpful…"
She unfurled the blueprints to his device and held them out to him. He took them, peering at them closely in the fading light, and Allena pulled out her flashlight and shone the beam on the detailed schematics.
Wilson gasped, and his hands shook slightly. He steadied them and said, "The blueprints to my device…? To the gateway I made…?"
She nodded. "You also had a journal, I think, but that was sold to a private collector way out of state. We had scanned copies, but they weren't readily accessible."
She realized that his breathing was shaky, and a spark of concern overtook her excitement. "Wilson? Are you okay?"
"Okay? Am I okay? This…"
He took a deep breath, and when he turned to her he was beaming. "With these blueprints I'll be able to reconstruct the gateway that brought us here. Even if it doesn't take us straight home I'll be able to use it as the basis for further research, I'll be able to refine this art and technology, to further my understanding of it by leaps and bounds! Oh, how I've longed for something like this! And you…"
His hand came up suddenly, almost impulsively, to the side of her head. She felt his fingers twine themselves slightly in her hair. The simple contact was enough to halt her breath.
He looked her in the eye and she could see hope glowing there, and excitement and fierce determination and –
His face colored. He withdrew his hand and cleared his throat slightly. "Ah, well, it may take some time to make use of these notes. To be sure I won't be able to do anything until winter is over. We'll need to put all of our energy into stocking up for it this fall, but as soon as I'm able I'll get straight to work reconstructing the device. Mark my words, this is the beginning of the end of our imprisonment here. I will get us home."
She blinked slowly and swallowed hard. "Y-y-yeah. I mean, I know you will. Like I said, if anyone can do it, it'll be you. Wilson Percival Higgsbury. Gentleman scientist, survivor extraordinaire, master and tamer – and escaper – of this vile wilderness," she said, adding on to his own grandiose self-description.
"You are too kind. Now, the first thing I must do it make a copy of this. I don't want to risk it being lost to us…"
Allena pulled out her phone. "Here, told it out. I'll take a few pictures."
"Ah!" He exclaimed. "Of course! An excellent idea. I always seem to forget about your little technological wonders. I'll also want another physical copy, but the pictures will serve as an emergency backup."
He straightened out the papers and Allena turned her camera flash on. She took half a dozen closeups of each page to make sure she had every detail, then they rolled the schematics up and returned them to their tube.
It was almost properly dark by then. The fire was out, and Wilson's torch would be going the same way soon. "Hold on, I'll start the fire back up," she said. She'd noticed that the days were absolutely getting shorter, and the nights were getting chillier. Winter was on its way. "Maybe you could tell me what you normally do to prepare for winter? I guess we'll want to get on that soon."
He nodded as she heaped logs onto the fire and stacked some kindling against them. Mere moments later they had a decent blaze, building in intensity, and he sat down with a thoughtful look. "Yes, I suppose we will. Well, normally I prepare for winter by drying plenty of rations. Rabbits and beefalo mostly, but I'm going to give frogs a try as well now. I think tomorrow will be a good time for a beefalo hunt."
"Perhaps I could spend the morning taking care of the rabbit traps, then hunt up more frogs in the afternoon?"
He shook his head. "I'll be filling the drying racks with beefalo soon enough. Check the rabbits, but leave frogs for another day. We'll have our hands full."
She nodded. "Alright. What else should I hop on? Do you need any other extra supplies? Sticks, grass, wood?"
"Sticks and grass are always welcome, but leave lumber to me. I already have a decent store, but I will certainly want to stock up a bit more. I'll also need more rocks to make a couple of thermal stones for you, but again, that's something I can manage."
She'd run over and grabbed her journal to begin taking notes. Grass, sticks, rocks, check. "Alright. Anything else I can grab tomorrow if I run out of grass and sticks?"
He prodded the fire, eliciting a puff of sparks. "Oh, yes, actually! Come to think of it, could you gather some pinecones? My store is almost completely depleted."
Huh. Pinecones. She knew pine nuts were edible, but she hadn't seen any on the menu so far. But if his store was almost depleted, maybe that was why. "Yeah, sure thing." To be honest she didn't want to chance the forest for them, but she wasn't about to shirk a job just because she was afraid of a few spiders. "Oh, what will you want for dinner tomorrow? Fish, frogs, rabbit?"
"Mmm. Surprise me. You really have a knack for cooking. It took me two years to learn how to make decent food, you know. Used to be I would just jam whatever I had on a stick and roast it for a while…if I bothered to cook it at all. Raw meat…" he made a face. "I'll leave it to the French, I think."
Allena laughed. "Yeah. Although I have to say, raw fish is a delicacy back home. Sushi is very popular nowadays."
"Sushi? What is that?"
They spent the rest of the evening discussing the various culinary wonders he had to look forward to when they got home, and by the time they were ready for bed they were both practically salivating in spite of their full stomachs.
"My goodness. Some of those meals sound positively dreadful, but I must admit I'm quite excited to try the Mexican cuisine. The Italian, too. And I'm certainly curious about this 'sushi' of yours. Raw fish does not sound appealing to me, but the way you go on about it…"
She licked her lips. "Tuna, salmon, red snapper…avocado, tobiko, wasabi, all those special sauces…maybe I'll see if I can't whip up something similar here. It really would be a treat."
He shrugged. "Well, we at least have plenty of tuna here. And there are a few varieties of wild rice that will suffice. Seaweed can usually be found just off the coast and drawn in if you're lucky. Horseradish grows a short ways away, but I've never picked it. Can't stand the stuff. As for salmon, you'll have to see if there are any schools along the coast. I haven't seen any, but you never know. Oh, and if this world has a variety of red snapper, you'll want to avoid it. Trust me. Anything with 'snapper' in its name is apt to be unpleasant here."
Shortly after their conversation they stocked the fire back up and retired to bed. Tomorrow would be a busy day for both of them.