A Tiny Problem
Chapter 9: Another Short Excursion
A reluctant Roxton skulked toward the clearing, gripping his rifle as Marguerite peered out from his vest. He spoke quietly, keeping his eyes on the jungle, but his words were meant for her.
"It's not too late to turn back, you know." He would happily carry her back to the treehouse and spend the day distracting her from her predicament. "Given your present size, it wouldn't be too difficult to arrange a nice hot bath."
It was a tempting offer, and he knew it.
"I've already had a bath this morning, or have you forgotten," she laughed.
"I've never known you to turn down a bath, my dear," was his reply.
"Perhaps, when this is over, I'll take you up on your gracious offer," she teased, "but I have no intention of turning back. Besides," she touched his chest and he shivered involuntarily at the unexpected contact, "if either of us could do with a bath right now, it's clearly you."
The insult was tempered by the exquisite feel of her tiny hand on his shirt.
"Perhaps, when this is over, we could take that bath together," he leered.
She could not see his face clearly, but she knew from his brazen tone that his eyebrows were waggling suggestively. He waited for her sharp-tongued retort, but it never came.
"Perhaps." Her voice was a seductive whisper.
She felt the tension that radiated through his body at her reply. It pleased her tremendously.
"Hold on," he commanded a moment later as he jumped and swung his legs into the balloon.
Finn and Challenger were already waiting in the basket. Veronica, untying the final rope, climbed aboard and they were airborne.
Their second test flight had now turned into a series of three short excursions, and Challenger was tremendously pleased that the modifications to the balloon were holding up so well. Very promising, he thought to himself, anticipating the moment, less than three months from now, when they would attempt another escape by air. Very promising, indeed.
The jungle was quieter this morning than it had been on the flight when they discovered the crystal escarpment. Too quiet. Veronica was apprehensive. A familiar tingling sensation in her limbs told her that trouble would not be long in finding them.
Before she had time to warn the others, a sudden volley of arrows broke through the canopy. Six or seven lodged in the side of the basket. Another dozen missed or were deflected, raining back down through the trees. A final arrow grazed Challenger's right shoulder, leaving a deep gash and causing him to lose his grip on the gas release valve. For a few terrifying moments, the balloon gained altitude so quickly that its passengers were scarcely able to hold on. Finn, in particular, who had already been struggling with her motion sickness, lost her balance completely and threw her full weight against Veronica, who, in turn, found herself slammed against Roxton's broad back.
The commotion was over almost as quickly as it had begun, as Challenger regained his senses and closed the valve of the reaction chamber. The balloon levelled off and its passengers looked to one another to determine whether any of them were hurt.
"Challenger, you're bleeding!" Veronica was already inspecting his torn sleeve as Finn knelt down and started rummaging through the first aid supplies.
"It's just a scratch, Veronica, I'm alright."
Seeing that this was true, Roxton turned his attention to the jungle below, but even through the scope of his rifle he could see no sign of their attackers through the dense foliage.
"Marguerite, are you alright?" Roxton reached instinctively inside his vest. The holster was empty.
"Marguerite? Marguerite!" He was shouting now. "Nobody move!"
He feared she had been trampled in the chaos. He tried to shake off the mental image of her tiny body crushed under his weight. Slowly, methodically, he swept the floor of the basket with his eyes. She was nowhere to be seen. Finally, he looked up at Challenger with a pleading expression.
Separately, the same dreadful realization occurred to each of them. She was gone. In a brief moment of confusion, she must have fallen overboard.
"Set us down, George," Roxton growled. It was not a request.
"I'm afraid the forest is much too dense here. The closest location where I can bring us down safely is on the ridge with the crystal deposit. I'm sorry, John. There is nothing I can do."
"Without Marguerite, there is no point in continuing to the mineral deposit. There's no point in any of it." He sounded rather more desperate than he had intended.
The others were not sure what to say. They didn't want to believe that she had simply vanished, like Summerlee, without a trace.
"There is no guarantee that whoever attacked us won't follow us there," Veronica added somberly. "We should turn back."
Roxton would not hear it, but Finn agreed.
"She's right, big guy. There is no way Marguerite survived that fall."
"Actually, Finn, I'm not so sure about that." Challenger had already been doing some mental calculations. "Marguerite's reduced mass will undoubtedly lessen the force of her impact with the ground. At just five percent of her normal size, I think it very unlikely that she could reach terminal velocity even from this height, especially with the rainforest canopy to slow her descent."
Reassured by Challenger's verdict, Roxton released the breath he had not realized he was holding. However, his relief was short-lived. She's alive. Now how on earth am I going to find her? He made a note of the position of the sun and scanned the jungle for any landmarks. Damn, it will be almost impossible to find this location again from the ground. Even as he thought this, he espied an unusual stand of Sumaumeira, their tall palm-like fronds towering high above the canopy. A quarter mile due east. There must be a river nearby. He would find her. Whatever it takes. I will not be parted from her again.
Twenty-six agonizing minutes later, the balloon set down on the now familiar slope. Challenger had insisted that despite his injury he was perfectly capable of assisting Finn and Veronica in identifying a suitable sample. Then, the trio would transport it back to the treehouse in the balloon, where they would wait for Roxton to return—hopefully, with Marguerite.
To Finn, the plan seemed foolish. Even if Roxton managed to find Marguerite—and it was by no means certain that he would—he would still have to contend with whoever it was that had tried to shoot them out of the sky. Alone. And humans were far from the only danger in the jungle. Marguerite's tiny size would make her the ideal prey for practically everything that slithered and crawled through the trees. Raptors and apemen will be the least of her problems. If the fall didn't kill her, the jungle will. He'll never find her in time.
Finn was not exactly a pessimist, but she could not understand the risks the others were willing to take with their own lives at times like this. It's a suicide mission, she was sure. But she knew she could not dissuade him. As long as there is a chance, he will never give up. She was a survivor, through and through. Roxton, however, was a savior. He leapt from the basket with a hand on his hat. Rolling to his feet, he broke into a run and had disappeared into the trees before the balloon had even made contact with the ground.
To be continued …