Chapter 14 – Over the Horizon
Reality weighed heavily upon Jake, and for the first time since ceasing to dream walk, he wondered if he might just wake up and have it all become some terrible dream. War loomed over the horizon, the sinister shadow of some unknown enemy threatening to destroy the peace of this world, already purchased at such a great price in blood. People aboard Montana talked about it as if it were some sort of everyday occurrence, that shooting off nukes in orbit was anything but the desperate acts of a species living on the edge of extinction.
Perhaps it was all good and well to speak of tossing around nuclear weapons and mass-driven railguns in some kind of theoretical discussion, but these weapons were very real. The death they would cause was anything but hypothetical. Beyond it all, Earth was gone, a smoldering ruin circling a lonely star, no longer home to the advanced civilization that was. Was it the technology, the science that was to blame, or was mankind simply unable to hold such power in its hands without destroying themselves with it? It was an argument as old as humanity itself, whether to blame the weapon or the wielder for the death that resulted.
Jake had no desire to rehash such subjects in his mind, and so the anger and frustration brewed like a pressure cooker, threatening his sanity. The Na'vi had sacrificed so much simply to live free of the destructive influence man had brought to this world. All too soon, he knew, they would have to do it again.
Neytiri lay curled up next to him on the floor, for the rack-beds here were far too small for any Na'vi. The slow rhythm of her breathing was a comfort to him, a thing he couldn't live without anymore. Jake missed his home in the forest, he missed the soft sounds of it, the natural beauty of the place. Beyond even that, he missed their children, the son he barely knew yet and the daughter whom everyone knew, due to that precocious streak she had probably inherited from her mother. He was supposed to be enjoying that life, hard as it was, rather than planning another kind of pointless slaughter. Jake was done with war, but unfortunately, war was not done with him.
"My Jake..." Neytiri whispered, her eyes opening lazily.
"Shhh. Sleep." Jake replied, touching her cheek and pulling her close. She symbolized everything that was good in the People. Neytiri was strong-willed and of sharp mind. She wasted no time, enjoying every moment of life she could.
"Do not be troubled," Neytiri said quietly. "We will prevail. Toruk Makto leads us again." Jake wanted to smile at this, to share that unbreakable faith that things would turn out fine, but try as he might, he could not.
As her eyes closed again, she nuzzled close to him, her tail wrapping around him possessively, as if to keep from ever leaving her side. Exhausted, Jake drifted off to sleep despite his conflicted thoughts, banishing his mind into the realm of dreams.
Fire blazed everywhere as the tidal wave of fiery rock erupted from the impact point, spreading rapidly across the surface of the Earth, scouring the last of the green fields and forest refuges in molten rage. Skyscrapers toppled into the boiling lava, billowing clouds of smoke erupted from the dying cities of man, terrified screams drowned out suddenly by the fearsome winds. Ash fell everywhere from the heavens, drifting about the swirling currents of wind, coating everything around him. Jake stood alone in the center of the wreckage, of skeletons and metal twisted together in a grotesque mockery of life.
"Nice place you got here, Corporal. Thought about retiring here after my tour." The voice was familiar, and it brought a chill down his spine. Colonel Quaritch stood before him, big as life in his fatigues, holding a cup of coffee as if this all was just some sort of minor early-morning difficulty.
"You're dead." Jake stated.
"Always said Hell was a better place then Pandora." Quartich continued, sipping from the mug, ignoring. The soldier's eyes took in the blighted reality of their shared birth-world, the remnants of a civilization that had turned on itself in a fit of apocalyptic fury.
"Neytiri killed you. I saw it."
"Yeah. She killed me. Got soft, I guess. You're not supposed to get soft, or this is what happens to you." Quaritch gestured to the smoldering ruins everywhere around them. Storm clouds gathered above, carrying plumes of dust and smoke, obscuring the sunlight completely, denying Earth that life-giving energy.
"What the hell are you doing here?
"Maybe I'm just a monkey in some gyrene's nightmare. Or maybe I'm a warning from Eywa. When she says jump, I have to jump. 'Cause one thing I can tell you is, what's headed your way isn't pretty. And you won't be pretty when they get done with you." Blood dripped from the arrow wounds in Quaritch's chest, leaking in great crimson rivulets that stained his combat fatigues and dripped out onto the soiled ground beneath.
"Make sense, man."
"Sense. As if you ever had any, Sully. How about enough firepower to sterilize Pandora every bit as dead as this joint? You're not taking the threat seriously, tying your hands behind your back instead of preparing for the fight. Get the job done, marine, or just die with your precious planet. Personally, I don't give a shit. I could use some company out here.." Quaritch reached for his coffee mug again, frowning as he found it empty.
"Guess that means I'm out. See you soon, Sully." The man's laughter echoed across the burning cityscape as the body rapidly decomposed before Jake's eyes, turning to blackened ash and blowing outward along the shifting currents of howling wind. Only the mug remained behind, an empty cup clutched by a bony hand, ready to be filled. He picked it up, regarding it curiously.
Parker's life had been one unmitigated disaster after another, one screw-up followed by something far worse. It was like a an avalanche that only grew larger and more chaotic with each passing moment. He felt the universe weighing upon him, the fate of his entire species resting on his flawed, weak shoulders. It was not a thing which gave him any kind of comfort. Yet how he could do any worse of a job than the Admiral, he could not fathom.
He couldn't blame her for her addiction to power, for he had succumbed to that alluring temptation too. Ultimately he was unable to wield such authority, it was a realization that had come to him only gradually, understanding that his real flaw was thinking that his decisions, simply by virtue of them being his, were somehow right. It was an understanding the Admiral had not yet reached. Parker recognized his own flaws in the mirror of her face, in her actions.
A knock on the hatchway door interrupted his thoughts and he frowned. Admiral Matheson never knocked, she just barged in as if she owned the place, and certainly no one else aboard wanted anything to do with him. He was anathema, a failure, along for the ride only as a tool. Parker opened the hatch warily, wondering what new threat would present itself.
"Mr. Selfridge." He recognized the weathered features as Lt. Colonel Nathaniel Archer, the only other man aboard to wield any kind of real authority independent of the Admiral. Archer's cropped buzz-cut and graying hair reminded Parker of another soldier, one that had wrecked his life beyond any kind of repair. Yet the man before him bore little resemblance to Quaritch otherwise, extending a hand in an almost friendly gesture, lips twisted in the barest hint of a smile.
"Colonel." Parker began hesitantly, gripping the offered hand firmly.
"I'd like a few minutes of your time." Archer stated simply. It wasn't a question, but it wasn't quite a demand either. Deciding he preferred this sort of treatment to the Admiral's icy demeanor, he opened the hatch completely, waving the soldier in.
"So... what can I do for you?" Parker began, sitting at his desk, little more than a tiny alcove with a computer screen. It hardly compared to the powerful, glass-surfaced monstrosity he once possessed, lording over Hell's Gate.
"I've got a few questions," Archer began, waving distractedly as Parker's face twitched for a moment. The soldier helped himself to the computer, swiveling the screen to face him. "No.. we're not taking you for a 'space walk' or anything. The Admiral has her methods, I have mine. I much prefer the carrot to the stick."
"Comforting." Parker said dryly, unconvinced.
"What I need is intel. We know Hell's Gate, her defenses, her manufacturing capabilities. What we need to do is take it intact from the enemy, either through negotiation or... more direct options." Archer began, bringing up a map of the complex on Parker's computer monitor.
"What can I do? I'm no soldier." Parker stated honestly, shifting around in his chair uncomfortably.
"Yeah, but you know the people." Archer countered. "You know how they think. Look, the Admiral says she wants to negotiate. Fine, we'll negotiate, but I think we both know that's not going to hold up. It's going to go south in a hurry, and we'll need to move fast to secure the base for ourselves. We want it intact, so we have a base with which to start the colony." Archer explained.
"I get it, really I do. All I can tell you is that Sully lost his mind and went native. Most of the scientists went with him." Parker said.
"I know the history and the official account," Archer frowned. "Look. I need to know what the man is like, I need to know the details that aren't in the official report. We need to anticipate his moves, and once we get there, we don't have time to sit around collecting intelligence while Sully reinforces the base with piles of native warriors. We need to go in hot, quick and eliminate resistance in a hurry, take over and fortify. We'll have control of the orbitals, of course, but that doesn't mean we don't need boots on the ground."
Archer paused for a moment, staring at the readouts and plans for Hell's Gate. "You help me, and I'll see to it the Admiral doesn't space you out of boredom, she'll listen to me. So I'm going to ask one more time, Mister Selfridge, and I expect an answer. Tell me the story of RDA's fall, the real story." It was a threat, but sugar-coated in at least little respect. Such was better than Parker could expect from the Admiral.
He nodded, taking a deep breath, unsure exactly of where to start. It was a long story, after all.
Though the ride back to her home was far more turbulent than the flight into the void and the Sky People vessel, Mo'rel felt a sense of relief despite it all. Her mate might have been perfectly at home among the stars, but she had no illusions about where she truly belonged. Human machines possessed seemingly limitless powers but she began to doubt if anyone, even her lifemate, should possess such power. Through tsa'heylu she had felt it as a high, a haunting feeling of absolute authority achieved at the point of a gun. Perhaps Ryan was less affected than most humans, yet it was still there in the back of his mind, and she felt it coursing through his thoughts. Montana was the fulfillment of an addiction, every bit as strong among the Sky People as Toruk was among the Na'vi.
Forces pushed her back against the harness as the dropship broke into the atmosphere at high speed, leveling out rapidly over the familiar forests of her home. Being so far from Eywa had felt like being naked and alone at the same time. So the restoration of that connection, the love of Eywa, the companionship of her world, brought her immense joy. It was the fulfillment of her own addiction, her own need. She turned to face Ryan, sitting lazily next to her, as if he had done this a great many times. Her eyes met his and she was shocked to find the same sort of connection in him. He was overjoyed to be returning home, and that surprised her. For a part of her always felt as if she would have to compete with the very stars for his heart. It would seem that somewhere along the way, he had found Eywa too, in his own way.
"What are you so happy about?" Janemeyers asked, chafing against the straps.
"We return home." Mo'rel answered, her voice carefully neutral.
"Stow it, Lieutenant." Ryan warned darkly. Why this woman had such a problem with her, Mo'rel couldn't understand. Jane was acting as if caught in the mating fever, that intense, irresistible attraction just before bonding with a lifemate.
"We're on final approach Hell's Gate. We'll be down in five, people." Trudy's voice echoed through the cargo bay. Mo'rel spent that time with her neck turned towards the window, watching as the trees rushed by, feeling excitement well up within her. She would hunt today, to enjoy a true meal, not preserved yerik meat prepared in human fashion.
"Thank you for flying Air Pandora." Trudy chimed in as the craft settled onto the ground, the ramp descending moments later. Mo'rel fumbled with the straps for a moment before remembering the workings of the strange human buckles. Others were reaching for stowed packs and gear, but she possessed none. Why Sky People needed so much stuff she couldn't comprehend. Feeling the fresh air of her home world rush in, she smiled, stepping out into the warm sunlight.
A booted foot met her own and she tumbled down the ramp, her head slamming against the artificial stone. She cried out as she felt the pain course through her, wiping the blood from her forehead as she stood. Mo'rel searched for the source of the offending foot, her eyes leveling to meet Jane's.
"Better watch where you're going, Moo-moo." Jane laughed.
Mo'rel didn't even stop to think, running full tilt into the offending woman, her fist impacting against Jane's gut, lifting her up with a loud 'oomph' of escaping air. The woman fell backwards onto the ramp with a loud thud, but Mo'rel didn't stop there, reaching for her knife, prepared to end this foolish woman's life for such an attack.
"Stop!" Neytiri's voice commanded, just as Mo'rel's blade met Jane's neck. The offending woman was mortified with terror, shaking violently at the unexpected fury of the assault.
"She challenged me." Mo'rel protested, the knife still pressed against Jane's throat.
"She is not of her right mind." Neytiri answered. "Or do you think Eywa would allow such a fool to pass through the Eye?"
Mo'rel hesitated a moment at this, for she too had been wondering why Eywa would allow such a hostile Sky Person to just pass through without a second thought. Perhaps there was more to the transfer of souls than anyone had thought. Yet she could not deny the challenge, the brazen and stupid behavior of this woman. She withdrew the knife slowly, cautiously, her eyes blazing with anger.
"You touch me again and I will send you to Eywa myself." Mo'rel warned, wiping blood from her forehead and flinging it onto Jane's outstretched body. Ryan was running down the steps, ignoring Jane's prone form, concern for his mate written all over his face.
"You all right?" He reached for the first aid kit near the door, fishing around for some cotton pads. Ryan pressed the pads against her forehead, dabbing up the blood gently. "What the hell happened?"
"This woman behaves as if fighting to choose a mate. You once mated with her?" Neytiri regarded Ryan curiously, as if challenging him to deny it.
"Uh... in human fashion, yes. It was a long time ago, humans don't bond permanently." Ryan protested, his arms cast around his lifemate protectively.
"It doesn't matter. When she became one with this body, she started acting like this?" Neytiri questioned further. Jake was at her side, eyebrow arched in curiosity yet remaining silent, allowing tsahik to do her duty.
Jane sat up slowly, catching her breath in great heaving gasps, her eyes darting around fearfully. "I... I don't understand." She began, carefully avoiding Mo'rel's fuming gaze.
"To pass through the Eye is to become one of the People in all things." Neytiri explained. "You mated with this man once. Your body knows this."
"I get it. Na'vi mate permanently, so her body is acting as if she were mated already because of her memory, or something." Ryan's voice betrayed his nervousness at this turn of events, he had a lifemate and obviously possessed no desire to constantly ward off another woman.
"Yes. There must be some feeling too." Neytiri continued. "Even if she didn't know it."
"So what do we do?" Ryan asked.
"She must find a true mate to replace the false bond. Until then she must remain far from both of you." Neytiri finished, turning towards Jane. "And you must learn to control yourself and your mating urges. You are not of the Sky People anymore. You will learn, or you will die." She said simply, walking away before the stunned woman could even mount up the courage to reply.
"Got to hand it to you Jake," Ryan began. "Your mate certainly has a way with words."
"Yeah, that she does," answered Jake. "But you. Seriously, do any of your crew know how to keep it in their pants?"
"It can get awful lonely, stuck in a tin can for months at a time." The captain explained. "It's just happens. Probably half the crew has done the deed at one point or another while on board."
"See to it that it doesn't 'just happen' anymore." Jake warned darkly. "We've got enough trouble as it is."
Air flew through her hair as she soared through the clouds, letting loose a scream of delight. Trudy had never known anything as perfect, anything as pure as flying like this. She felt the wings of her ikran as if they were her own, she felt the wind, the moisture hovering in the clouds. When she first came to this world, seeing the natives riding around on their banshees for the first time, she had wondered then what it must be like. How little she had understood then. After flying the dropship, the only thing she had wanted to do was this, the only place she wanted to be was out there in the forests of Pandora.
Norm struggled to keep up behind her, but even that didn't matter, not now. Life was as it should be. All she wanted was for the constant threats the universe manufactured for this world to simply end. Then she could enjoy life with her mate, she could hunt from the skies and feel as if she were truly alive. Life may not have been easy out here in the bush, but it was so much less complicated. And if anything satisfied Trudy, it was a lack of complications.
It was a thing that sometimes put strain on her relationship with Norm, for if there was any constant in the life of a scientist, it was in making things unnecessarily complex. Yet Norm shared her dreams, and she his, and in truth reality was probably caught somewhere between them. Perhaps some of her mate's thinking had rubbed off on her, the Omaticaya seemed to think this was the way things worked with tsa'heylu.
"Hey, we gotta eat.. can't be up here all day." Norm screamed above the wind, sliding his truly massive ikran next to hers. That had been an interesting event, showing off the scientist's conquest to the rest of the tribe. They had been suitably impressed, for only a select few warriors ever bonded with such large banshees.
"All right, Norm. Let's see what you've got." Trudy challenged, twisting into a dive, descending towards the lake below. She leveled out just above the waves, casting a spray of water everywhere as she smiled, choosing her target form among the tetrapterons already flying rapidly away from the disturbance. Trudy chose her target carefully, drawing back the bowstring and letting loose, dropping one of the birds with the first arrow.
It splashed into the water, the body floating gently along the waves near the shoreline. She was about to land to wade in and retrieve it when Norm's ikran appeared, reaching out a clawed appendage to clutch the kill. The massive banshee was somehow still able to maintain momentum even with such a large kill. Trudy smiled, at peace with her life here, as she spoke the words all of the tribe remembered so well. For even a creature such as this deserved to rest peacefully, with Eywa, just as she would someday.
"Guess I'm useful after all?" Norm yelled over the wind, smiling at her as they ascended into the cloudy sky once more.
The journey back to her adopted home was uneventful, giving her mind a much needed break from the complexities her life had developed. There was a sort of tranquility on Pandora now, even among the untamed wilds, a peace she had never known in her human body. Perhaps it was how all Na'vi felt about their home world, or maybe this was something unique to her alone. All of her life she felt like she had been running from something, culminating in her self-imposed exile on the furthest flung outpost of humanity, and now from humanity itself.
Yet as she soared through the clouds, she wondered if she had been mistaken. Maybe all this time she had been running to something. Her ikran dove ever-faster towards Hometree, gaining reckless speed, leveling out at the last moment, buzzing the tree so close that the wind of her passing disturbed the leaves. Wide-eyed Omaticaya looked on from below as she twisted and turned in a manner no Na'vi had even contemplated before. When she landed near the ikran roost it was to cheers and admiring glances.