"We can't get over the mountains."
For Mother, it was an admission of defeat. To have come so far, only to find that the mountains were too steep to get over with equipment the clones did not possess, was thoroughly discouraging. It was something he had not even considered. Clones were meant to be airdropped into battle or posting. They were not meant to travel long distances across the ground. And Mother was especially unprepared.
"Not here anyway," Volk's statement was far less bleak.
He looked to Tavis to support it. Tavis was already looking to the right, towards the river, and then to the left, where a long unbroken line of mountain range rose up.
The water was deep, the current was strong, and the clones had no experience with swimming, even aside from the monster in the river. But on the other side of the water... the mountains diminished somewhat. There might be a gap between them through which the clones might travel. If they could get across the water. The other direction was not so promising. Though it seemed passable, the mountains were high and close together as far as the eye could see, more like cliffs than anything, steep and forbidding. But there were no "lake monsters", and little chance of drowning.
Either way, they would be leaving behind their source of water, with no clue when, where or if they would see water again. And too, food would be scarce away from the water, both prey and the handful of edible plants the clones had discovered along the riverbanks.
For so long, they had been trying to just get to the mountains. Now they were here, their objective accomplished... but they seemed no closer to their goal. And they dared not even think of the uncertainty of the goal in and of itself. That would take the heart from them completely.
While the others rested a few yards off, Tavis conferred with his team leaders. He relied more on Volk's opinions than Mother's, because Mother tended to think things through from a pilot's perspective. However, Mother was often the temper for Volk's sometimes outlandish expectations of the abilities of the men. Volk often seemed to be of the opinion that, if he could think of it, they could do it. Especially if he could do it. If he could do something, he expected anyone to be able to, regardless of experience or physical condition or the normal limiting factors of living individuals.
So, though Tavis' next question was directed at Volk, it was actually for Mother.
"What do you think about Damyu? Could he make it across the river?"
Damyu did his best to appear fully recovered, but he wasn't fooling anyone. His breath came to him harder than the others, and twinges of pain marked nearly every movement. He tired more easily, and regained his energy more slowly. He made no complaints and concealed well, but not well enough.
"It's not that far across and, if we swim with the current instead of fighting it, we should all make it alright," Volk assessed, and Tavis found his confidence comforting, if perhaps misplaced.
Volk's study of the water was incomplete, virtually all he knew of it were old lessons and what he'd been able to understand of it on recent contact. Water was a thing clones were not meant to fight in. Sometimes above, but anyone knocked out of a hover vehicle could expect to be dead by the time he splashed down. There was a gaping hole in their education, and now they knew it.
Even so, Volk was a bright observer, as were most of his kind. Adaptability and quick learning were essential, because you could not train for every eventuality. That was fully impossible.
Tavis trusted Volk's judgment, but noted he had evaded the question.
"Damyu folds under and there won't be a one of us able to help him," Mother observed.
"So maybe he won't fold," Volk shot back, bristling.
He usually did when the capabilities of himself and his men were questioned. Especially when it came to Damyu. Mother elected to ignore his tone, responding instead to his argument.
"The kid folds at the end of a day's hike. Put more stress than that on him, and he'll cave. He doesn't have anything in reserve, he's giving all he's got already."
Mother remembered that this was essentially what Doc had told him, only in different words, and in relation to a different trooper. And Doc had been right. Pushed, Tavis would not have had the strength to accomplish his takeover, and this problem they faced now would have been Mother's.
Tavis had seemed to only be distantly listening to he exchange, but now he changed the playing field.
"Volk: tell me why we should go the long way. And Mother, tell me why we should cross the river."
The two clones shifted uncomfortably. He had just asked them to come up with reasons why they should do the opposite of what they'd just suggested. Volk clearly favored the river, Mother preferred the land route. Hadn't Tavis been listening? They wondered.
Tavis had been listening. And hadn't been fond of what he'd heard. Each had taken the matter personally. If Tavis chose one over the other, that too would be taken personally. They were attached to their recommendations. And so, Tavis demanded that they each take a second look at the option they'd discounted, forcing them to look at things from a different angle. Analyze the situation.
"River's a lot shorter route," Mother said finally, having thought about it longer than necessary, "I'd guess it would more than cut our travel time in half."
Tavis knew this, and so did Mother. A pilot, Mother hadn't even thought of the mountains as obstacles until he'd gotten up close to them. In his mind, it was just as easy to fly over them as to get to them in the first place. He now transferred that pilot's view onto the river.
"There may be a way over the mountains we can't see from here," Volk countered almost hesitantly, "And that would be easier," clones were more agreeable to climbing than swimming as a rule.
"That's a maybe," Mother came back swiftly, "We can actually see a way through across the river."
"The land is safer," Volk defended, with almost as much passion as he had put into the opposite argument, "We can't defend ourselves in the water. And we can't see what's coming up under us."
"The lizards don't swim, and they wouldn't follow us across."
The clones had seen (and absorbed the meaning of) a small pack of the lizards chasing a prey animal. In a last ditch effort to escape, the frightened beast had plunged headlong into the river. It swam poorly and was quickly swept away, but the alternative had been guaranteed death. The lizards, which had become frenzied in the extended pursuit of their quarry, refused to set even one foot in the water.
The lizards had since continued following the clones, and were especially fond of taking the spoils of a successful hunt, snatching prey in their jaws and running away. Sometimes though, they used the panic generated in herds by the clones to secure prey of their own.
"Better the lizards who respect you than the ones that don't," Volk said.
"You assume there are lizards across the river. We haven't seen any," Mother retorted.
"I assume that, wherever there are edible plants, there are creatures that eat them. And wherever there are herbivores, there are carnivores," Volk corrected.
"So," Tavis interrupted, "Does that mean you've changed your recommendations?"
Volk and Mother stopped talking, but it took them a few seconds to realize what Tavis had done. They had been accepting of their instructions without thinking, as was the habit of clones, and the result had been they had each argued strongly for a position they didn't even believe in.
"You're evil," Volk hissed, but with none of the malice that would have marked such a comment in earlier days. He still didn't like Tavis, but had to admire the man.
"We'll make camp here. We're all tired, and there's no point in going further tonight."
The clones traveled mostly in darkness, taking shelter in trees, rocks and sometimes under bushes in the intense heat of the day. It was also possible that Tavis was considering another angle. They'd seen the Lake Monster only at night, mostly early morning and late evening. It was theoretically possible that the thing did not come to the surface during daylight hours at all. If they were to cross, they should do it during the day. On the other hand, the line along the mountain was pretty barren, with shade being scarce. They didn't want to be caught in the open when the sun got up in the sky.
The truth, and what Tavis did not share with the others, was that he didn't know which way to go. He needed time to think. He didn't like either of his options, and knew things could go badly either way.
Tavis had to make a decision, to try and secure their future.
The others bedded down for the night (morning, day... whatever), but Tavis climbed up on a large boulder near the campsite and sat there, staring out at the water. His thoughts did not travel to his current problem, but instead to the deeper, more uncomfortable one.
What lay on the other side of the mountains? Not only hadn't they been briefed on anything beyond their own post, the situation was one that they didn't understand. They had been attacked, other posts might have been as well. They could be hurrying towards nothing, or disaster.
Tavis took the first watch. He knew exhaustion was his only hope at sleeping. When he slept, his mind dragged him back into the dark pit of memory, towards... something. Something he could not remember, and wasn't sure he wanted to. If his mind had blocked it out, there was probably a reason.
"What did you see, Tavis?"
Tavis was startled by the sound of Phisher's voice. He had known the question was coming, known for days. Phisher wasn't like the others. Phisher was curious, and interested in events of the past, as well as the potential of the future. He seemed to take only a passive interest in the present.
As his name implied, Phisher's greatest preoccupation was the acquisition of information through any means necessary. He was also a mean gambler, but that didn't figure here.
What did factor into it was that Phisher had a hand in Tavis' being so deep inside the compound. But Phisher hadn't seen the worst of it. He hadn't seen... what? Tavis shook his head.
"Oh come on," Phisher persisted, "You saw something, didn't you? And it's eating you up inside. What was it? Was it the research? What were they building in the lab?"
"I don't know," Tavis replied honestly, "I never got that deep. The first explosion hit before I was halfway down the hall to the elevator," which is where you should have been instead of me, he did not add aloud, but his silence spoke volumes to Phisher, who was quiet for a moment.
"Things aren't always the way they should be," Phisher said.
"And I should never have been that deep inside the compound. I had no business there, no right to be there, and no reason whatsoever. I could be shot for trying to satisfy your curiosity."
"And I could be shot just for being here," Phisher returned quietly.
"I don't care," Tavis snapped, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard, "When we get out of this, you and I are done. Do you understand? I want you off my team, and out of my squad. And I'll do anything it takes to make that happen."
"You've changed," Phisher commented dryly, then added more gently, "You've gotten stronger. Freedom suits you well, my friend."
Tavis growled wordlessly, provoking an amused smirk from Phisher, who moved off to sleep. Tavis watched him go, bristling with a directionless hostility. Tavis couldn't hate Phisher, or the objectives he had. But Phisher had made his life miserable from the moment he joined Fortune Actual. Not in the same way Volk had, of course. There was no competition between Tavis and Phisher, only history.
But Tavis wasn't worried about Phisher for the moment. He knew Phisher would look out for the squad's best interests, and he already hunted well for them. And too, he knew that, if they ever got back to civilization, Phisher would repeat nothing of what had happened here. Least of all, what they had been doing just before the first explosions hit, just before the world turned to fire.
Tavis could trust him that far. But that didn't mean Tavis intended to tolerate him a moment longer than necessary. Phisher was too cocky, too persuasive, and simply too dangerous to be kept around. Phisher himself would not have denied it if anyone had accused him of such things.
Tavis watched as Phisher joined the clones of fireteam Fortune, moving easily among them with body language that conveyed familiarity and confidence in his place. He was not the least intimidated by Tavis' threat. Phisher knew that Tavis had little power over his future, and was not worried.
Tavis returned his attention to the water. Something had moved in it.
The clones had decided to rest in a kopje -or little hill of rocks- several hundred yards from the water. Tavis didn't feel threatened by the silver flash he'd seen, knowing that he was too far from the water for anything in it to take him. But he wanted to know what it was.
In the water, there were a variety of animals (some of which could be eaten), and almost any one of them could have caused that flash. The most ominous, of course, was the Lake Monster. If it was in the area, this would be a bad place to cross the river at any time of day.
The mouth of the river was either inside the mountains or on the other side. A tunnel was cut right through the mountainside. But it was too small and treacherous to consider as a travel route.
The flicker of movement did not reappear, but that did not put Tavis' mind at ease.
Dimly, he wished he was on a battlefield, with nothing more mysterious than droids to face. This world -and this situation- was no place for soldiers.
