Virdon tossed restlessly. Too many thoughts rushed through his mind,
precluding rest. The bitterness of Burke's tirade still rang in his ears.
While he had to admit he'd risked his life and as a consequence, the lives
of his friends when he first retrieved the magnetic disk, he'd never
willingly trade their lives for it. Yet the disk was their only link to home, and their only shot, albeit a long one, of getting back. As such, it was invaluable. But Pete twisted it all out of
context.… Ah, well. He knew Pete well enough to know that he sometimes struck out without waiting to see where the blows fell. Pete was upset about Liska and the village - hell, they all were. Alan knew with the sure knowledge that comes from long friendship that he and Galen simply happened to be in the line of fire when Pete's rage and guilt erupted tonight.
But was that all there was to it? Virdon couldn't fool himself. No, when it came to the disk, the differences between himself and Pete ran deep. And on this night, their differences had been forced into the open and brought to a head as a result of the events culminating in the destruction of Chandar.
Alan let his grief for Liska and Kabon rise to the surface. Couldn't they have done something to stop their deaths? Anything! Pete thought he'd signed their death warrants, but Urko didn't need an excuse. He'd already known they'd been there, or he wouldn't have been at Chandar to begin with. Alan had known they shouldn't have stayed there as long as they had, but it was such a relief to stop running…even if only for a few days. Still, as the acknowledged leader of the trio, he should have listened to his instincts and gotten them out of there. Maybe things would have been different…he shook his head impatiently. Could have, should have…it was a waste of time.
Virdon looked up towards the branches of the huge tree they sheltered under, blocking his view of the night sky. He couldn't give up on the disk yet. It was true that the lives of his friends were infinitely more valuable to him than the record of their flight to this hellhole. But he had to be honest with himself. When it came down to it, he would willingly risk his own life to get it back.
No, not would. Will get it back. His jaw squared with determination as he turned over, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.
---------------------------------
Liska beckoned, smiling. Burke's face lit at the sight. He ran to her as fast as he could, overjoyed that she was okay. Drawing nearer, he slowed. Something was wrong, very wrong. A chill worked its way up his spine. His feet dragged as he forced himself to keep moving towards her. A few steps closer and Liska turned, facing him fully. Her smile was replaced by a rictus of agony as she drew back her hand to show him the ragged hole in her chest. He screamed and
dropped his head into his hands, hiding from the sight momentarily, then willed himself to look at her again. "I love you, Pete," she said, lovely mouth accusing. "Don't go. Not yet."
Burke choked back a sob, then whirled at a sound behind him. The dirt at his feet crumbled into large muddy clots as a hand pushed through the ground, clawing. Burke was rooted to the spot, eyes grown impossibly wide as a figure struggled, escaping the clinging earth. Kabon. He grabbed Burke's legs, pulling himself upwards. "You are responsible. You are to blame," he whispered, arm out-stretched. His hand was mud-covered, and the fingernails dirty and broken from the climb out of the depths of his own grave. Burke watched, horrified, as the hand drew closer and closer….
Burke woke suddenly and sat up, panicked. His breath came in stentorian gasps. He clapped his fingers across his mouth, preventing any other sound. Quickly he looked at Galen and Alan.
Asleep. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. God. He wanted to throw up again. His eyes burned, and he brushed a hand furiously across them. He had to do something. Hit something. Someone. Just make the pain go away.
All right, calm down. Get hold of yourself. Unwanted, the dream flashed before his eyes. He drew in a quick breath. You've already killed them, Burke. Torturing yourself isn't going to make it any better. He winced and lowered his head into the heels of his palms, elbows resting against his thighs. He willed his breath to slow.
Gradually it did. Rubbing his eyes, he lay back, thinking about the argument he'd had with his friends tonight. Shit. That only made him feel worse. What was he thinking, attacking Alan like that? He knew what the disk meant to Alan - knew the disk was his motivation to keep going another day, and the next, and the next. If he thought there wasn't a chance of finding his way back to his beloved wife and son… Burke shook his head. They meant everything to Alan.
I know that, he said to himself. I know that. I shouldn't have jumped him. I'm the one that left the disk behind. Not Alan.
He became very still, staring into the dark branches far above. I will get it back for you, Alan, he thought with sudden resolve. The resolve turned to cold rage. And I'll kill that son-of-a-bitch Urko while I'm at it. If it's the last thing I ever do.
willingly trade their lives for it. Yet the disk was their only link to home, and their only shot, albeit a long one, of getting back. As such, it was invaluable. But Pete twisted it all out of
context.… Ah, well. He knew Pete well enough to know that he sometimes struck out without waiting to see where the blows fell. Pete was upset about Liska and the village - hell, they all were. Alan knew with the sure knowledge that comes from long friendship that he and Galen simply happened to be in the line of fire when Pete's rage and guilt erupted tonight.
But was that all there was to it? Virdon couldn't fool himself. No, when it came to the disk, the differences between himself and Pete ran deep. And on this night, their differences had been forced into the open and brought to a head as a result of the events culminating in the destruction of Chandar.
Alan let his grief for Liska and Kabon rise to the surface. Couldn't they have done something to stop their deaths? Anything! Pete thought he'd signed their death warrants, but Urko didn't need an excuse. He'd already known they'd been there, or he wouldn't have been at Chandar to begin with. Alan had known they shouldn't have stayed there as long as they had, but it was such a relief to stop running…even if only for a few days. Still, as the acknowledged leader of the trio, he should have listened to his instincts and gotten them out of there. Maybe things would have been different…he shook his head impatiently. Could have, should have…it was a waste of time.
Virdon looked up towards the branches of the huge tree they sheltered under, blocking his view of the night sky. He couldn't give up on the disk yet. It was true that the lives of his friends were infinitely more valuable to him than the record of their flight to this hellhole. But he had to be honest with himself. When it came down to it, he would willingly risk his own life to get it back.
No, not would. Will get it back. His jaw squared with determination as he turned over, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.
---------------------------------
Liska beckoned, smiling. Burke's face lit at the sight. He ran to her as fast as he could, overjoyed that she was okay. Drawing nearer, he slowed. Something was wrong, very wrong. A chill worked its way up his spine. His feet dragged as he forced himself to keep moving towards her. A few steps closer and Liska turned, facing him fully. Her smile was replaced by a rictus of agony as she drew back her hand to show him the ragged hole in her chest. He screamed and
dropped his head into his hands, hiding from the sight momentarily, then willed himself to look at her again. "I love you, Pete," she said, lovely mouth accusing. "Don't go. Not yet."
Burke choked back a sob, then whirled at a sound behind him. The dirt at his feet crumbled into large muddy clots as a hand pushed through the ground, clawing. Burke was rooted to the spot, eyes grown impossibly wide as a figure struggled, escaping the clinging earth. Kabon. He grabbed Burke's legs, pulling himself upwards. "You are responsible. You are to blame," he whispered, arm out-stretched. His hand was mud-covered, and the fingernails dirty and broken from the climb out of the depths of his own grave. Burke watched, horrified, as the hand drew closer and closer….
Burke woke suddenly and sat up, panicked. His breath came in stentorian gasps. He clapped his fingers across his mouth, preventing any other sound. Quickly he looked at Galen and Alan.
Asleep. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. God. He wanted to throw up again. His eyes burned, and he brushed a hand furiously across them. He had to do something. Hit something. Someone. Just make the pain go away.
All right, calm down. Get hold of yourself. Unwanted, the dream flashed before his eyes. He drew in a quick breath. You've already killed them, Burke. Torturing yourself isn't going to make it any better. He winced and lowered his head into the heels of his palms, elbows resting against his thighs. He willed his breath to slow.
Gradually it did. Rubbing his eyes, he lay back, thinking about the argument he'd had with his friends tonight. Shit. That only made him feel worse. What was he thinking, attacking Alan like that? He knew what the disk meant to Alan - knew the disk was his motivation to keep going another day, and the next, and the next. If he thought there wasn't a chance of finding his way back to his beloved wife and son… Burke shook his head. They meant everything to Alan.
I know that, he said to himself. I know that. I shouldn't have jumped him. I'm the one that left the disk behind. Not Alan.
He became very still, staring into the dark branches far above. I will get it back for you, Alan, he thought with sudden resolve. The resolve turned to cold rage. And I'll kill that son-of-a-bitch Urko while I'm at it. If it's the last thing I ever do.
