Disclaimer: Earth 2 and all related characters belong to the Amblin Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended, and there's definitely no money being made. It would be extremely rude (and unprofitable) to sue me.
Chapter 2
"You were dreaming," she said, and until her voice sounded quietly beside him in the darkness, he had not fully realized that he had awakened.
"Was I?" There was no memory of it in him; there was just the darkness, the quiet, and the comforting warmness of her beside him.
"You were crying."
His cheeks were wet. He had to touch a hand to them to feel for himself before he believed her words. And still no memories troubled his waking mind. "I don't remember," he sighed, reaching for her in the darkness and pulling her close. "I'm sorry if I waked you."
"It's all right," she breathed, and was silent for a long time. He had begun to drift back off to sleep when she spoke again. "Alonzo... is there something troubling you?"
"No, Julia." They had had this conversation before, two nights ago. And three nights before that as well.
"It's just..." She seemed hesitant, but he felt her sit up in bed, could sense the shadowy outlines of her form as she turned toward him. If there had been any light in the tent, he knew the expression he would see on her face: quizzical and intent. But he could not mistake the deep tone of concern in her voice. She touched his cheeks, smoothing away the remnants of tears he did not remember having shed, and said, "You haven't slept well the last while."
"Julia, I'm fine." What else was there to say? "I'm just tired."
"All right," she murmured. "I'm sorry. I just worry about you."
He felt a smile touch his lips at that. "I'm old enough to look after myself. Older than you, anyway."
She didn't immediately respond to his teasing, and after a few moments, asked, "Alonzo, do you have any children?"
It was his turn to sit up in surprise. Where the hell had that question come from? "I don't know, Julia."
"You don't know?"
"No," he said tersely, a faint edge beginning to intrude on his voice, and he pulled away from her. He knew how it sounded, knew what she must be thinking. "No, I don't know. Yes, there were other women, Julia. Lots of other women. Mostly in between jobs, in between sleep runs. I spent some time with them, and whatever happened, happened, and that was it. I got my next job and I left."
"Did you never wonder if—"
"Of course I did," and he was getting angry, "but that isn't the way it works. You can't just go digging up pieces of your past, not if you want to stay in the business, not if you want to stay sane. It's done. Over. And you leave it alone and you go on. You have no idea, Julia – you have no idea what it's like, what it takes."
In counterpoint to his anger, she remained calm, eminently reasonable. It was her damn doctor voice – and he was hearing it more and more frequently. "I left everything behind, spent twenty-two years in cold sleep to come here to G889. I think I understand—"
"No, you don't! You said it yourself – you left everything behind to come here, Julia. You took one trip and stopped. As far as you're concerned, the sleep might have been one day, one week, one month, one hundred years. It doesn't make any difference to you, because you aren't ever going back."
She was suddenly very quiet, very still. "And you are?" she asked.
Belatedly, he realized that he'd treaded onto that topic they never spoke of, the thing they both ignored by mutual agreement. "I don't know, Julia." And then he laughed bitterly. "I guess there's a lot of things I don't know."
There was the hint of a sigh in her voice as she caught his arm and drew him back to her. "You were talking in your sleep, Alonzo. You were crying about 'the children'. That was the only reason I asked. I didn't mean to sound judgmental or accusing. I only wanted to help you."
Children. It didn't make any sense. And he couldn't remember it. He didn't want to.
"Maybe I should run a few more tests—"
"No. I don't want any more." He'd had enough medical tests in the past two weeks to last him for the next ten years, all because Morgan had bumped his head and decided there was something wrong with him. And Julia hadn't found anything wrong, but every time he tripped over his feet, she was there, suggesting maybe they should take another test.
"Alonzo—"
"Julia, I said no." She was silent for a moment, and then Alonzo heard her turn away from him, heard her fingers fumbling quietly through the items by the bedside, and realized she must be searching for the lumalight. He put his hand on her shoulder, felt her stiffen under his touch. "Don't go. I'm sorry. I..." He didn't know what he wanted to say. "Let's just not talk about it any more," he murmured. "Not tonight."
"All right," she replied softly, turning back to him. She brushed a hand through his hair, then drew him near and pulled him into an embrace, wrapping her arms protectively about him. "All right. I'm sorry, too." Her voice was low and soothing. "We'll worry about it later. Go to sleep."
Julia held him gently, silently counting off the minutes. She waited until she felt the tension leave his muscles, waited until his breathing had dropped to a slow and measured pace, waited until she felt enough time had passed. Carefully, she extricated herself from his embrace, reaching around him to brush her fingers against the back of his neck to make sure the sedaderm patch she had surreptitiously applied was still there.
"Alonzo?" she asked tentatively, shaking him a little, but apparently the sedative had taken hold, for he didn't respond. She flicked on the light, quickly pulling on some clothes and pushing her feet into her boots. Crossing the room, she put on her gear, murmuring quietly as she began to record, "Dr. Julia Heller, medical journal. Encoded entry, my voiceprint only," she instructed, pulling on her diaglove and collecting her medical equipment. "Subject: Alonzo Solace."
He'd be angry with her, she knew, if he found out about this. Maybe he'd even have good reason to be. But, at the moment, she didn't care about that.
This was the sixth time in the last nine days that he'd cried out in his sleep, thrashing and weeping and calling incoherently. Always claiming to have no waking memory of the disturbance. Never wanting to speak about it.
The fact that his nightmares had begun so shortly after the "flying Terrians" incident was not lost on her either, for all that she scoffed at Morgan's dire mutterings of possession and treachery. She'd already examined both Morgan and Alonzo, and found nothing amiss in either man. But perhaps she hadn't looked closely enough, perhaps she'd missed something. Perhaps there was nothing at all to find; other than the sudden onset of nightmares, there was no indication whatsoever that anything was wrong with Alonzo.
But she'd already made too many mistakes on this planet – Devon's current condition was enough to attest to that – and this time Julia was determined to make no errors. The next time, she would not have the luxury of a cold sleep chamber to preserve patients she couldn't cure. She had to be sure.
So, she'd just collect the samples she needed, take as many readings as possible, and examine the results in more detail over the next few days of travel.
If she didn't find anything, then Alonzo need never know of this, and she promised herself she wouldn't entertain any further doubts.
And if she did find something... well, she wouldn't worry about that until she had to. In any case, his well-being was more important to her than his hurt feelings.
"Downshift, Morgan, for God's sake!" he bellowed. "Downshift!"
The TransRover made a grinding whiny sound that was not entirely unlike Morgan's speaking voice, ironically enough, then settled down as the man finally managed to shift the gears.
"Damn idiotic fool," Danziger muttered, settling back down into the DuneRail. "A child could drive that thing better than he can."
Neither Alonzo nor Julia responded, and Danziger glanced at the two of them in puzzlement. Both of them had been awfully poor company so far today. Maybe they'd had an argument, he guessed. Alonzo had seemed unusually groggy this morning, and Julia had been stifling yawns all day, occasionally nodding off in the back seat of the vehicle. But, on the other hand, there didn't seem to be any hostility between them, so it was more likely that they'd just been otherwise occupied last night. Though the two of them tried to be discreet, the camp was too small for most secrets and everyone was well aware that they'd been sharing sleeping quarters for some time now.
"We're making good time," he commented to Alonzo, hoping to draw out some conversation. "Yale says we should be out of these badlands within a few days or so."
"Badlands?" Alonzo echoed questioningly.
"You know, from the 'old old old west, pardner'."
Alonzo obviously didn't know. He shot a brief smile at Danziger. "I'm not that old, you know."
Danziger chuckled, then explained, "True and Uly have an 'old earth west' VR program they showed me yesterday. Looked a bit like this." He waved an arm at the rocky scenery. "True had got the bright idea that maybe she and Uly could run around and play their shoot-em-up games out here."
"That girl is fearless – you know that, Danziger?"
"Yeah, I know. Scares the hell out of me." He craned his neck to look behind him, caught sight of Uly and True leaning out the side of the TransRover, pointing and excitedly chattering over something they'd seen.
Better not be any more of those damn bird-things.
It wasn't. What had caught their attention was a particularly impressive stone column, colored in stripes made up of multiple layers of sand and sediment. Although Yale had explained the geological facts to the children in all precise detail, his overly scientific explanation didn't seem to have dimmed their enthusiasm for the rocks.
Further away, Danziger could see the dark flickers of movement in the sky, and he frowned, but at least they were far away. The winged creatures seemed to like to perch on the topmost rocks in the surrounding chain of cliffs. And while they'd come nosing around a few times after they'd taken Alonzo and Morgan on that unexpected ride, the creatures hadn't come too close ever since Danziger had fired a few shots into the air.
Which meant either that the creatures were somewhat intelligent, or that they were familiar with weapons fire. Danziger didn't know which explanation he preferred. But at least the things were keeping their distance now.
"Hey," he said, turning back around and looking at the instrument panel, "you're off course again."
Alonzo glanced at the readouts in surprise, then jerked the vehicle abruptly back on track. The sudden lurch woke Julia, who'd fallen asleep again in the back seat. "Sorry bout that."
"You're losing your touch, flyboy," Danziger teased. "That's three times this afternoon. With a sense of direction like that, it makes me wonder how you even got us to the right planet."
Alonzo smirked, glanced sideways at the other man. "You realize, of course," he commented, "that you have only my word for it that this actually is G889?"
"Okay, that's it. I'm driving."
"No you're not."
"I'm commandeering this vehicle."
"I outrank you."
"Maybe, but at least I can drive in a straight line," Danziger needled, pointing at the display with malicious glee.
Alonzo scowled at the offending instruments, easing the DuneRail back into the proper direction. "I could if you didn't keep distracting me."
"Distracting you?" Danziger leaned back, enjoying the situation immensely. "You scare me, pal. We're way out in the middle of nowhere, all rocks and dust. What's to distract you? I gotta tell you, Lonz, if you're piloting the colony ship back to Earthspace, I'm going to have to think twice about boarding."
"Fine with me," Alonzo replied, watching the display very intently, obviously bound and determined to stay precisely on course this time. "Colony ship's a lot larger. We won't need you for ballast on the way back—"
"Ballast—?" he sputtered.
"Please," Julia interrupted, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Please, please, please stop."
"The DuneRail? Or the witty repartee?" Danziger asked.
"Both. We've been driving all day. And listening to the two of you is giving me a headache. Are we going to stop and set up camp sometime soon? I want to get out of this vehicle."
"I want to get out, too," Danziger agreed. "In one piece, preferably—"
"Danziger," she said warningly.
"Okay, okay. Sorry. Yale expected us to reach a river crossing today," he said, more seriously. "Thought it would be a good place to camp for a day or two while he makes sure we're still on track. It shouldn't be too much further ahead. Should be running somewhat parallel to us—" He double-checked the instruments. "Hey, still on course! Good job, Lonz!"
"Shut up, Danziger," the other man retorted good-naturedly.
"—so if you want to keep a look-out for it," Danziger continued, "there's some jumpers there in the back seat."
Julia grumbled and muttered quietly to herself, but retrieved the jumpers and began scouring the horizon for the promised campsite. A good five minutes of weighty silence followed, and Danziger fervently hoped that Yale had been right about that river, because he was pretty sure that Julia was going to mutiny soon if it didn't appear.
"There," she said at last. "There's something over there."
Alonzo obligingly turned the vehicle in the direction she was pointing to. A small, gurgling river cut its way through the dusty ground, not really looking worth all the effort they'd spent in finding it. Still, it was as good a place as any to make camp.
Julia climbed awkwardly out of the DuneRail, obviously stiff and sore, and, with a huge yawn, informed Danziger that she was going to get samples of the water.
Danziger watched her go, chuckling a little to himself. "Maybe you ought to let her get at least a little bit of sleep tonight," he suggested. There was no reply from the other man, and Danziger turned to look at him. "Lonz?"
The pilot was staring intently off into the distance, sitting stock-still with his hands clenched tightly about the steering wheel. Danziger followed his gaze to a cluster of distant hills, searching the craggy peaks for whatever it was that had caught his attention, but couldn't see anything.
"What is it? Do you see something? Alonzo?" He nudged the other man, who jumped at the touch.
"Sorry," Alonzo muttered sheepishly, climbing out of the DuneRail. "It just seemed... familiar, for a minute. Can't quite place it."
"What looked familiar?"
"This place," Alonzo said, glancing around as though still somewhat puzzled.
"Huh." Danziger didn't really see anything to set this place apart from the rest of the landscape they'd been traveling through, with the possible exception of the scrawny river.
Something in the pilot's distracted countenance caught his attention, but before he had a chance to consider it any further, the TransRover had lumbered to a stop nearby. True leaped out and flung herself at him like some kind of human projectile, very nearly toppling him off his feet as she wrapped him in a hug.
"Dad," she gushed excitedly, "did you see the hoodoos? Isn't that a funny name – and Yale says they could be hundreds of thousands of years old! And that stone archway – did you see that!" He had to laugh; she didn't even wait for a reply, but launched into a detailed explanation of all the different kinds of rocks she and Uly had seen.
"True-girl," he said, gently interrupting the non-stop flow of words from his daughter's mouth, "this is all really interesting, and I want you to tell me all about it later, but right now I need to go help the others set up camp."
"Oh." For a moment, she seemed almost embarrassed by her enthusiasm, but Danziger found it refreshing. Until they'd come to G889, he hadn't really realized just how short True's childhood had been. From a very early age, she'd been expected to be a miniature adult, her education spent in learning about practical matters such as mechanics and circuitry and systems maintenance. That was the economic reality of life of the stations – at least for the drones – and it was the childhood Danziger had experienced, but it wasn't what he wanted for True. "Okay. Can I help you?" she offered.
"You sure can. But you know what?" he suggested, turning to look towards Uly. The boy was hovering on the perimeter of the group, watching as the adults began unloading the heavy equipment. "Why don't you find something that Uly can help out with?"
"Okay, dad," she nodded in perfect understanding. "Don't worry. I'll make sure he doesn't feel left out."
Morgan hopped out of the TransRover, and the sunny smile he met from Bess was almost enough to dispel the glower John Danziger had thrown his way.
Danziger, Morgan had decided, could always find something to be annoyed about. If Morgan was walking, he was slowing everyone up. If Morgan was riding, he should pull his own weight. If he drove too slow, he'd be complaining that Uly could walk faster, and if he drove too fast, he'd start shrieking about his engines. And people claimed Morgan was a pessimist!
Bess, on the other hand, was an effusive optimist, who seldom lost her good spirits. "Do you want help setting up our tent, honey?" As if it were a fun thing to do.
"Yeah, okay," he replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster in response. Tent-setting-up wasn't really his favourite activity. It was, however, a relatively individual task. Better by far than joining in the team efforts to set up the perimeter sensors, where he always seemed to be in the way. Reconsidering, he added, "You know what, Bess? I think I can manage on my own... I mean, if you want."
"Are you sure, Morgan?"
"Yeah, I can do it. I've done it before."
Not all by himself, by Bess tactfully chose not to mention that. "All right, Morgan. If you're sure." And when he nodded, she beamed a bright smile as if she were proud of him. "Then I'll be over there, helping Julia and Yale. If you need any help, let me know, okay?"
"Uh huh." He was already sorting through the poles and trying to unfold the tent fabric. Might take him a while, but at least it would give him time to think.
Bess turned to join Julia a short distance away. Morgan bristled inwardly as he saw Alonzo working nearby – the pilot was busy unloading the medical equipment from the Transrover and didn't seem to be paying any attention to either Julia or Bess... nevertheless, Morgan didn't like it. As far as he was concerned – not that anyone else cared about his opinion – the pilot was not trustworthy. Narrowing his eyes, Morgan kept watch.
And yet... Over ten days had passed since the whole unpleasant 'incident', and the whole watching-and-waiting strategy hadn't worked as well as Morgan had initially hoped.
Okay, not hoped. Expected. He'd expected that by now whatever-it-was would have happened. That Alonzo would have sprouted wings and turned into some kind of freakish bird-thing. Or that millions of those winged Terrian creatures would have come along, snatched them all up and eaten them, all while Alonzo stood by laughing maniacally. Something.
And though those awful flying things had swooped nearby a few times, Danziger and Baines had mostly been able to scare them off with a few shots from the heavy weaponry. They kept watch for them, and when the flocks ahead of them had appeared ominously thick, Yale had led the group on long, complicated detours that had now added several days to their travel. That made Morgan uneasy – he had the eerie feeling that they were being herded round and round in circles – but he much preferred avoidance to confrontation, and at least they hadn't seen much of the winged creatures in the past two days. The last time they'd flown overhead, Morgan had ducked down with fear, certain that it was his last moment, that they were going to catch him again and this time he wouldn't get away. But Alonzo had been almost oblivious to them, had glanced upward with mild curiosity and nothing more.
Was that odd? Or was Morgan the odd one for being so suspicious? Maybe it was part of his government-mindset. Maybe he'd learned to look for conspiracies and ulterior motives and half-truths because he'd had to. And maybe, by the same reasoning, Alonzo had learned to let go of those things and just go on, because that was the way things had worked in his corner of the world.
Maybe.
But Morgan still didn't trust him, not even when Alonzo finally grew tired of the uneasiness between them and went out of his way to apologize for whatever he'd inadvertently done, for somehow alarming him in some way, but obviously Morgan could see now that he'd been mistaken.
On the whole, Morgan considered it a bit of a backhanded apology, but then the pilot had never been one to waste his charm on the males of the species.
But Morgan Martin hadn't got to be a level four bureaucrat without learning a few tricks of his own. He'd put on his patented phony smile, shook Alonzo's hand and said whatever the other man wanted to hear. Yes, I'm an idiot. Yes, you were right. So glad we were able to resolve the situation. Thanks for being so understanding. Et cetera, et cetera.
After that, an almost palpable sense of relief had swept over everyone in the camp. Even Bess – his beautiful, naïve wife who trusted everyone – had said that she was glad all the unpleasantness was over. She was just happy to have him safe and everyone be friends again.
Morgan wished he could do that, pretended it was true. But that little suspicious corner of his mind was working overtime with a stubbornness that wouldn't let go. He just had to keep watch. Eventually, Alonzo would relax, let down his guard a little, and Morgan would find out once and for all what was really going on.
"Morgan!"
He snapped back to reality with a start. "What?"
Danziger was looking down at him, not exactly glowering anymore, but not exactly friendly either. He looked suspicious, like he figured Morgan was daydreaming. "I said, you've got that backward," he stated, nodding down at the connector that Morgan had been unthinkingly trying and trying to attach without success. "Turn it around."
"Oh," he said, turning it around, and it was a perfect fit. "Thanks." Best get his mind back on setting up this tent, or he'd have Danziger pitching in to help him.
"I don't think it goes that way," Uly said.
"It does so," True retorted, then stepped back to eye the canopy with a critical eye. The supporting pole she'd been working on did look a little lopsided, and the fabric roof was definitely lower in one corner. "Or maybe not... But if you'd help me instead of just criticizing all the time—"
"I wasn't criticizing – I was just saying."
"Well, stop saying and start helping."
With a beleaguered sigh, Uly hopped off the chair he'd been sitting on and trotted over to her side. "I think you need to put it in that bottom piece first," he suggested, pointing at the bracket on the ground. "Then the top."
'How would you know?' were the words that wanted to pop out of True's mouth, but she grudgingly looked again at the brackets, and then at the poles. "Maybe."
With Uly's help, the two of them removed the pole, and set it in place again as he'd suggested.
"I guess you were right," she admitted, eyeing the tent. "It looks much better now. We're done!" She glanced around camp, at the various centers of activity, and noticed Morgan Martin plodding away, putting up his own tent by himself. He was only halfway done. "Do you think we should go help Morgan?"
Uly glanced over his shoulder, then shook his head. "Nah."
Good. She hadn't really felt like doing more work anyway. After all, it was her job to keep Uly company, not to help Morgan. She kicked a toe at the sand, wondering what they could do now. "Do you miss your Mom?" she blurted out, before realizing a moment later that maybe that wasn't very tactful.
"Yeah," Uly replied evenly. "She's never been away before, not for more than a day or two. She's always been with me. Yale, too," he added.
"I've always been with my dad," True agreed, "as long as I can remember. I'm sorry your Mom isn't here. But she'll be okay until Julia can find a way to make her better, and then we'll all go back to get her."
"I know. And she really really wanted us to get to New Pacifica. Besides, the Terrians will look after her until we get back there."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"How?" she pressed. "Are there any Terrians here?"
Uly paused, seeming to consider that for a moment. "No... I mean, I don't think so."
"Why not?"
"I dunno. They just aren't."
True resisted the urge to become exasperated. There was no point in talking Terrians with Uly; either he talked wild tall tales that couldn't be true, or he gave short succinct replies that had no detail at all. Instead, she glanced around and seized upon a chance to change the topic. "Look, there's a whole bunch of rocks over there. Maybe we can find some like Yale was talking about. Do you want to go look?"
Uly seemed unusually hesitant. "Nah, I don't think so."
"Why not?" she asked in surprise.
He scuffed his feet aimlessly, and then shrugged. "I dunno. The ground feels funny. It makes my feet itch."
"It's called 'sand'," she snickered, "and if you'd lace your boots tighter, you wouldn't have that problem."
"I know what sand is," he retorted hotly. "And my boots are fine!" he said, kicking up a foot to show her his properly-laced footwear. "I just don't like it. I don't have to like it."
"I guess not," True agreed, though she couldn't quite repress a feeling of superiority. "But it is just sand," she added reasonably. "It isn't going to hurt you if we go exploring just a little bit—"
"No exploring tonight," Yale said, appearing abruptly on the scene and efficiently gathering each of them under his arms. "Come along, children," he said, herding them swiftly back into the centre of camp, "let's get you some supper, and then off to bed. You've both had a long day."
"What's the matter?" Uly asked, a few scant seconds before True could ask the same question. Both of them were well attuned to the behaviour of the adult team members and had quickly learned to recognize the array of subtle and not-so-subtle indicators of trouble.
"Nothing's the matter," Yale replied soothingly, a sure sign that something was wrong.
"But it isn't that late," True protested, "so why can't Uly and I look around a little bit?"
"Because he said so, True-girl," her father said sternly. She hadn't seen him standing there, and his tone was firm enough that she quickly swallowed any further arguments she might have had.
"You mustn't forget how quickly it gets dark here," Yale explained after a moment, "We're travelling through a deep canyon, and once the sun drops behind those mountains," he pointed up at the high cliff walls to the west, "it will seem like night down here much sooner. We need to be cautious – we wouldn't want anyone getting lost. Besides, you've both had a long day of travel – it's time for you to get some rest."
Not having much choice in the matter, both children obediently followed the tutor to their tent. Before ducking inside, True glanced over her shoulder to see the adults gathering in a tight knot around the campfire. Something was definitely going on.
Julia and Yale had assembled the group and were busy lecturing away, but Morgan was only half-listening to their explanation of why they shouldn't drink the water. Everyone else seemed mesmerized by the discussion – all Morgan had heard was 'contaminants' and 'trace particles' and 'toxic blah blah blah'. Making sure he wore his best I-am-listening expression, he was more focused on discreetly keeping an eye on Alonzo. One of the more useful bureaucratic talents he'd learned over the years was the trick of watching someone without looking like he was watching.
The pilot stalked restlessly back and forth on the perimeters of the group, to all appearances listening intently, but now and again he cast little glances off into the darkening sky. Morgan wondered just what it was he was watching for.
"Are you sure?" Alonzo said abruptly. "That doesn't make any sense."
And his words didn't make any sense to Morgan either, because he hadn't been listening. He decided it might be useful to tune in just a little.
"What, you mean someone's been here before us?" Danziger demanded, sounding more tense than usual. "Can you tell me what it came from? Vehicle, or—"
Julia cut off his question abruptly. "Your guess is as good as mine. I don't have anywhere near the amount of data that I'd need to even possibly identify the source of the contamination, much less enable me to determine how it was introduced into the water here. If it weren't for Yale's information banks, we wouldn't even be able to identify it as antriox."
"Antriox?" Morgan echoed without thinking, suddenly finding everyone's eyes on him. "You mean, the propulsion coolant stuff?" A few seemed surprised that Morgan actually recognized the word. "Interstellar used to equip their long-range ships with that," he explained, wishing he'd paid more attention to the conversation so that he knew exactly what everyone was talking about. "But it's been on the restricted list for years – it wasn't very stable, and the port authorities finally decided everyone should switch to hydroxelics, anyway."
"Exactly," Yale agreed evenly. "Which is why we believe the ship – whatever it is – was launched some time before Devon even identified G889 as habitable."
Danziger made a sound of deep exasperation. "Great. Just great. So we got another batch of penal colonists ahead?"
Morgan's spine stiffened with alarm.
"We cannot be certain of that," Yale cautioned. "As Morgan mentioned, it was commonly used at one time. It could be any type of ship."
"Yeah, but who knew about G889 back then? Only the Council," Danziger reasoned stubbornly. "No one else would be way out here. If you've found those chemicals contaminating the water, then that means there's got to be more of them ahead and—"
"I found trace elements only," Julia stated, firmly downplaying any sense of alarm. "And without knowing where the source of contamination is located, it's impossible to determine how diluted it is, how far away it is, what kind of equipment it's coming from. Even if I could tell you that, we don't know how long ago anyone else landed here, much less whether they're still alive and in the area."
"In any case," Yale added, "speculation is counterproductive. Our water supplies are more than adequate; as long as the contamination is localized to this area, it will not pose a threat. And until we move on, all of us will simply need to be aware that there may be some human activity in the area."
"W-w-what does he mean, 'human activity'?" Morgan asked Bess, suddenly feeling painfully vulnerable sitting out here in the open while they were talking about penal colonists and possible hostiles.
Obviously, he'd voiced the question a little more loudly than he should have, for Danziger snapped, "What part of the conversation didn't you understand, Morgan? Seems straightforward enough to me. Ships carry people?" he said, waving his hand about to illustrate, "ships land, people get out. Human activity. Got it?"
"Wouldn't hurt to take a few extra precautions while we're here," Walman suggested grimly. "Just about every other human we've run into has been trouble."
"Maybe that's because there weren't supposed to be any other humans out here," Baines muttered morosely.
Morgan blinked, pulling together the fragments of conversation. Antriox contaminants... in the river water? He didn't know a lot of details, but he did know that the chemical was not a natural occurrence. It had been a manufactured compound, highly complex and highly expensive. And if it was way out here, on G889, that must mean there was another ship around here somewhere. He glanced helplessly about, was unnerved to find Alonzo staring darkly at him.
And then realized that the pilot wasn't really looking at him, was just staring into space. Abruptly, Alonzo stirred. "The Roanoke," he said, looking to Danziger. "Some remnants of the ship might have survived the entry into the atmosphere, crashed somewhere around here."
"It's possible," Danziger replied, his expression easing somewhat as he considered it.
"No, it isn't," Morgan argued. "The Roanoke wouldn't have been equipped with antriox. I told you, it was prohibited—"
"Its use was prohibited in propulsion systems only," Alonzo retorted sharply, as though his credentials were being called into question. "Not from the sleep-ship components. Antriox is stable in long-term deep cold environments, and the Roanoke's cold sleep systems were equipped with it, Morgan."
Morgan's jaw tightened at the condescending tone, but he bit back any reply he might have made. The fact was, he wasn't an expert on the stuff. He only knew the regulations that had concerned his job, and the details of cold sleep systems had never been part of his purview. Much as he hated to concede the point, Alonzo was probably right – as pilot, he'd have known his ship better than anyone else.
With no further opposition from Morgan, Alonzo tried again. "Maybe we should take a look around – there might be something we can salvage—"
"Don't even think about it," Julia enunciated coldly, cutting Alonzo off before Danziger even had a chance to agree with him. "It's not safe. We don't know what's out there."
"But if it's the Roanoke," Alonzo attempted again.
"If it's the Roanoke," Morgan interrupted, unable to stop himself, "it's nothing but broken metal and fried circuitry. It's useless."
Alonzo turned a bitterly cold gaze upon him.
"Morgan's got a point," Danziger said with a sigh, as if it hurt him personally to have to agree. "It'll be burned beyond the hope of salvage. You're not gonna be able to get that thing to fly again. Still," he muttered speculatively, "I'd like to know for sure. It wouldn't hurt to do a little scouting in the area. Just to know whether or not there are any more penal colonists or ZEDs lurking out there."
"I don't think that's a good idea," Magus opined. "No sense in going looking for trouble – it seems to find us soon enough as it is."
"Yeah, and I'm sure all of us have learned our lesson and no one's going to be actively looking for trouble," Danziger replied, and Morgan wondered why he glanced pointedly in his direction. "All I'm saying is it wouldn't hurt to be sure. Forewarned is forearmed. Besides, we're stuck here for a day or two anyway while Yale tries to find us a way out of this maze."
Julia's eyes flashed, and Yale interceded quickly, obviously attempting to curtail any further arguments on the issue. "Let us adjourn this discussion until the morning," he suggested evenly. "It's growing dark, and there is nothing to be done at the moment. In the meantime, to be safe, I would suggest we take a few additional precautions. The perimeter alarms should be set to maximum. No one is to venture outside the camp until dawn, and we will have two people on watch at all times. I trust everyone is in agreement?"
No one objected, but Morgan noted that Alonzo turned on his heel in wordless annoyance to stare speculatively out at the darkening landscape.
"Morgan," Bess hissed, her arm wrapped tightly about his as the two of them headed back to their tent, "what does all this mean?"
He knew what she was asking, but it was guys like Danziger and Alonzo and Yale that were always there with the glib reassurances and ready answers. Morgan only knew what he remembered, and apparently nothing he remembered from the stations translated into anything useful here. "Whatever it is, it can't be anything good," he remarked bitterly. "Seems like nothing's ever good on this planet."
Though exhausted, Julia lay awake in the darkness, trying to force herself to fall asleep. Beside her, Alonzo lay quietly, apparently sleeping peacefully tonight. That surprised her.
After the meeting, he'd stalked restlessly around the perimeter of the camp before finally coming back to the tent in a foul temper. He'd been terse and angry and edgy, and when she confronted him, he'd denied it, said he was just tired. There'd been no reasoning with him, and she'd known better than to try.
But, in spite of his sour mood, he'd let go of the tension knotted within him and had dropped into a seemingly dreamless sleep with an ease that she sorely envied at the moment. Julia had tried to do the same, but it wasn't so easy for her. Maybe it was her skewed chromosomes, but some part of her had refused to stop thinking.
She was worried about Alonzo.
Although she'd spent almost all of last night awake, running as many tests as possible, she'd had no opportunity since to examine the results. The day had been spent almost entirely in travelling, and then she had to work a few hours more analyzing the unexpected oddities she'd found in the water.
In the few brief moments she'd had to examine Alonzo's tests, she'd found nothing extraordinary. Of course, it would help if she knew what she was looking for. Physically, Alonzo seemed perfectly healthy and unharmed. Psychologically... well, she did not have the proper medical equipment to accurately gauge that. Aside from the dreams that he never remembered, the dreams that seemed to be growing steadily more intense – and she was the only one who knew about that – the only other thing to give her pause was his behaviour this evening.
But on the other hand, when she thought about it, she realized that discussions about the Roanoke had always unsettled him a bit. Perhaps it was a lingering anger or sense of guilt about the crash.
Julia knew all about guilt. It still crept up on her, every now and again. Every time she made a mistake, every time she couldn't do what was asked of her, a part of herself wondered if the others doubted her. If they were still remembering how she'd deceived them, spied on them, betrayed them...
She'd been such a fool, almost lost everything...
Though she'd been forgiven, those memories were filled with a regret that she couldn't seem to put aside, a pain that still lingered within her.
And, as if that were not enough, there was the guilt of other failures to keep her awake at night: Devon was lying in cold sleep – left waiting farther and farther behind them with every step they took, every day that they travelled – because Eden Advance's only doctor hadn't been able to find out what was killing her, much less discover a cure. And Eben was dead.
And now Alonzo was... was... what? Dreaming strange dreams, refusing to confide in her? Perhaps she was overreacting, allowing Morgan's natural paranoia to rouse her own fears and insecurities.
Tomorrow, she promised herself. After the succession of winding detours they'd taken in the last few days, Yale needed time to verify their position and had called for a halt. So there would be time enough tomorrow to work and worry and find whatever answers she could.
Surely, it could all wait until tomorrow.
"Hey." Morgan was walking toward him, with an almost transparently forced smile on his face, and if he wasn't quite the last person Alonzo wanted to see, he still didn't really feel like having to deal with the bureaucrat today. But it didn't look like he was going to be able to avoid it. "I've been thinking about what you said last night," Morgan said, "and maybe you're right."
"What I said?" Alonzo echoed dubiously, recalling Julia and Yale doing most of the talking.
"About the Roanoke," Morgan prompted.
"Oh." Alonzo turned away, staring out at the empty landscape. "What about it?"
"Maybe you're right," Morgan repeated, beginning to sound exasperated. "Maybe it's out there."
"I think it's more likely that you were right," Alonzo replied mildly. "If she is out there, she's nothing but wreckage."
"Wouldn't you like to know for sure?"
'I already do,' Alonzo thought. He could do the math. He'd been a pilot long enough that he knew that the speed and weight of the ship coming down against the planet's atmosphere could only end one way. No matter how he tried to do the calculations, they all ended up with crashing and burning. He didn't need to see the ship's ruins to know that.
He hadn't been thinking last night – he'd just seized upon the idea that it was the Roanoke, the last piece of what he'd been before he'd been grounded, and he'd wanted to go out there and find it. It didn't really make sense, not when he thought about it, and Morgan had been right about that, at least. The ship had been fatally wounded when it went down.
"Why are you so interested?" he asked in return, and he could almost feel the tension jumping in the man next to him. Obviously, Morgan hadn't quite put away all of his fears as he had claimed to. Alonzo could feel the man's eyes burning suspiciously upon him, even without meeting his gaze.
"I... I just thought I might come along with you. If you wanted."
"What makes you think I'm going anywhere?"
"Well," Morgan said reasonably, "you've been standing here staring out there all morning."
A faint flicker of surprise sounded within Alonzo as he realized Morgan was right.
"And I thought that while Danziger's fixing the TransRover, and while Yale's doing ...whatever he does with the maps..., we might as well be doing something. You mentioned the Roanoke, and I thought... Or we could just go out and do some scouting," Morgan suggested, changing tack when Alonzo turned to look at him, obviously trying to gauge his mood. "Baines took the ATV and is checking out Yale's routes for tomorrow. But we could just kind of scout around other places. You know. Make sure there's no penal colonists."
"You and me?"
Morgan seemed to wilt a little bit, but said, "Why not?"
Alonzo eyed the other man. "How long are we going to keep doing this, Morgan?"
"K-keep doing what?" he asked, a hint of the nervous stutter entering his voice.
"You know what I'm talking about," Alonzo gritted with annoyance. "When do you stop looking at me like I'm some sort of security risk or time bomb or something? When do we go back to normal? What is it going to take?"
Morgan's face was pale. His mouth worked silently for a moment before he managed to say, "I don't know..." And then he recovered a little. "I thought I was over it, I really did, but now and then I just seem to... go back. I can't help it. So then I thought that while we're stuck here, maybe if I kind of spent a little more time around you, I'd be sure, and then it would just wear off. You know?"
Despite his irritation, Alonzo felt his lip twitch, then began to chuckle. Morgan joined in, laughing uncertainly, not having the slightest clue as to what was so funny. "Okay, Morgan. Sure. Whatever. You want to go out there, we go out. After this, though, I want to be able to look over my shoulder, and not see you watching me from behind a rock. Okay?"
"Uh... okay." And Morgan just stood there.
"You wanted to go scouting?" Alonzo prodded.
"D-do you?"
He resisted the urge to sigh heavily. "Sure, Morgan," and he tried not to let it sound too exasperated, "why don't we do that?"
"Okay."
"Great."
Morgan quivered a little bit, and looked nervously away. "I... I think I'll just tell Bess... that we're going. So they don't worry. O-okay?"
"Wonderful."
Morgan backed away, almost tripping over his heels as he hurried off to notify his next-of-kin of his whereabouts, and no doubt make arrangement for rescue should something go wrong.
"This could be a truly terrible idea," Alonzo murmured to himself, not sure how he should take Morgan's obvious, ongoing mistrust. It was like Morgan had expected him to grow another head or something. If all he had to do to convince Morgan he was wrong was drive around for one day with the other man in tow, Alonzo would count himself lucky.
Somehow, though, he doubted he'd be so fortunate.
Shaking his head, Alonzo made his way across camp. He found Danziger sitting atop the Transrover, almost casually rooting through a tangle of wires and circuitry. "Hey, Danziger. Morgan wants to go scouting – can we take the Rail?"
A snort. "You and Morgan? I thought the two of you weren't on speaking terms." A brief pause, and then a barely audible murmur, "Not that that's a bad thing."
"Yeah, I noticed." Alonzo shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's not such a good idea... but, I gotta admit, at least it's something to do. I'm getting antsy just sitting here waiting—"
"It was Baines' turn to go scouting," Danziger replied patiently, as if he were mediating an argument between True and Uly, "and you know how grumpy he gets when he doesn't get a chance to go out. I had to let him take the ATV. He already complains that you've gone more than anyone else—"
"I know, I know. It's just..."
Danziger chuckled, spared a moment to glance down at Alonzo. "Yeah, okay, go ahead and take the Rail. And if Morgan wants to go with you – great! I'm always glad to see him somewhere else. But I'm warning you – I just got that vehicle fixed. If you bring it back with even one dent, you're the one who'll be putting in the maintenance hours to fix it up again."
"Not a scratch," Alonzo promised. "Thanks, Danz."
"And stay out of trouble," Danziger called after him.
"Don't I always?"
A sputtering out-of-earshot response that probably wasn't at all complimentary, but Alonzo didn't mind. His step quickened with eagerness, and there was an inexplicable quiver of anticipation in him as he turned to look out at the jagged landscape. He was going out there. He was going. It had been almost all he could think of since they had stopped by the river – a yearning, a steady pull on his thoughts – and yet he hadn't fully realized it until this moment.
He frowned, faintly disturbed by that, but any qualms he might have felt were quickly smothered by the more powerful urge to go find whatever might be out there.
Alonzo was driving. Of course Alonzo was driving. Alonzo was the pilot – exactly why he figured that skill automatically translated to ground vehicles, he hadn't explained – and if Morgan didn't like it, he could damn well walk back to camp.
Okay, so he hadn't actually said that – not in so many words – but Morgan had got the message loud and clear.
So Morgan handled the scanning part of the scouting expedition, scouring the surrounding area for any hint of hostiles, or just anything weird in general. The idea had been alarming enough when it had been raised last night, but they'd been wandering around out here for several hours now, and Morgan was beginning to doubt Julia and Yale's dire predictions – so far, they hadn't seen anything but sand and rock. There had been nothing at all to report at the last check-in with the camp.
As for Alonzo... well, things hadn't started out too badly. He'd been tolerant, if not as friendly as usual. But as the morning stretched into afternoon, his mood seemed to have worn thin and he'd rebuffed Morgan's attempts at conversation.
Perhaps, Morgan reflected, he should have phrased some of his questions more circumspectly, because he'd obviously managed to offend Alonzo. For the last half-hour, Alonzo had been studiously preoccupied and had hardly opened his mouth the entire time.
Glancing at the instrument panel, Morgan noticed that they were heading in the same direction they had been for the last while. Peering through the jumpers, he supposed Alonzo was heading for the range of cliffs just ahead. There was a dark glitter to their peaks that Morgan assumed might be some kind of ore, maybe valuable. Normally, that thought would make his heart leap, but Alonzo's insistent silence was beginning to unnerve him.
"You got something you want to see on those cliffs?" he finally ventured to ask.
Alonzo threw him a dismissive look. "You're the one with the jumpers. And the MagPro."
Morgan felt an uncomfortable twinge at his tone of voice – obviously Alonzo hadn't overlooked how jealously close Morgan had been keeping the weapon. "Yeah, but you're the one who's been speeding off to the north-west for the last hour or so," he pointed out, pretending he hadn't heard the last comment.
Alonzo frowned, then shrugged. "Is there somewhere else you want to go? You're the boss."
Morgan didn't miss the sarcastic tone of voice. "Look, I am really not trying to antagonize you on purpose—"
"Well, you manage to do a pretty good job of it," he growled. "I just picked a direction, okay? If we're looking for whatever contaminated the water, it makes sense to follow the river, doesn't it?"
It did make sense. But just yesterday, Morgan had been in the TransRover following Alonzo, Danziger and Julia, and he'd noticed a decidedly north-western tilt to the DuneRail's course. In spite of the straight-west course that had been decided on. Probably better to not mention that now, though. "You're in a bad mood."
Alonzo laughed dryly. "Oh, and I suppose that's just proof that there's something wrong with me, isn't it, Morgan? Isn't it?"
Morgan swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"You're the one who wanted to come out here," Alonzo accused angrily. "You're the one who's sitting there, looking over my shoulder and second-guessing every move I make, and yes, it's really starting to piss me off. 'How come you want to go there, Alonzo'," he mimicked, leveling Morgan with a piercing gaze, "and 'Why are you doing that? You never used to do that before' and 'Keep an eye on him' and 'I don't think you should leave Uly with him' and 'How come you can't remember your goddamned dreams'—!"
Morgan was almost as alarmed by Alonzo's rapidly rising temper as he was by the fact that the other man wasn't paying nearly enough attention to his driving. "Okay, I really think maybe you should be watching where we're going—"
Alonzo slammed on the brakes, the DuneRail kicking up dust as it skidded wildly about and lurched to a halt. Morgan was sure he was going to have a bruise from where the seatbelts had seized up across his chest. But, in spite of his comment, there hadn't been anything directly in their path, no reason for Alonzo to stop so abruptly.
Alonzo sat with his head buried in his hands. "Are... are you okay?" Morgan asked tentatively.
"Yes." His voice was muffled. "No. I don't know. All of the above." He lifted his head, looked at Morgan, and there was an unexpectedly agitated look in his gaze. "I'm tired, Morgan. I'm tired of this. Can you understand that? What have I done that's so terrible?"
"I..." Morgan found himself almost at a loss for words, didn't know how or where he could begin to explain. Everything had been said and done already. "I'm sorry," he offered, and this time he meant it. "It isn't you... It's whatever happened..."
"Then why can't I remember it?" he asked forlornly. "If you're right, why can't I remember?"
"I don't know." It was such an inadequate thing to say, and Alonzo seemed to crumple at the words.
"Julia says I have bad dreams," he murmured, almost sadly. "And I wanted to come out here. Needed to. I can't explain it. But I feel it, even now. I don't want to, but I feel so..." He covered his face again. "Oh god... maybe there is something wrong with me."
Morgan didn't know what to say.
"I keep thinking of the Roanoke going down. It's been in my mind all day. And Danziger's friend... that Wentworth woman... she didn't even realize what she'd done."
"Wentworth?" Morgan couldn't quite follow the jarring turn of the conversation. "I don't understand. What's she got to do with any of this?"
"You don't understand anything, Morgan," Alonzo retorted, but without much rancor. "You never do." For a few moments longer, Alonzo simply stared at the ground, lost in thought, then abruptly unbuckled himself and climbed out of the DuneRail. "We should go back," he decided, walking around to Morgan's side of the vehicle. "You drive."
"A-are you sure?"
For a moment, Alonzo visibly wavered, obviously torn. And then he seemed to steel himself, forcing the words out: "Yeah, I'm sure." Alonzo paused as his gear set beeped, and quickly put it on.
Morgan climbed out and made his way to the driver's side, listening to the conversation with half an ear. It was the camp, checking up on them. Probably Julia again, he decided, judging from the soft tone of Alonzo's voice. She'd called several times already. Alonzo didn't have too much to say to her, just that they hadn't found anything, that they were coming back, and that they'd talk about it when they got back.
"Everything okay back there?" he asked tentatively when Alonzo had signed off.
"Yeah. Let's get going."
"Are you sure about this?" Morgan prodded, although a part of him couldn't imagine why he was arguing, unless it was in some vague way intended to make the other man feel better. He hadn't expected to feel so guilty about being right. "We came all this way... we're pretty close to those cliffs now. We could probably find out what's contaminating the river. Look, there's a lake. And you can even see a waterfall way over there."
Alonzo didn't seem at all enthused by the suggestion – for which Morgan was secretly grateful – but he did turn to look. And then stood transfixed as he regarded the distant waterfall with a rapt attention that was all out of proportion to the unexceptional sight.
"Alonzo?" No answer.
And as Morgan followed Alonzo's gaze, he realized with horror that the blackness atop those cliffs was most definitely not ore or mineral. It was the black glimmering shadows of those creatures, fluttering and shifting and slowly beginning to take to the air.
"Oh my god," he breathed. "Alonzo," he said more urgently, but the man wasn't hearing, was instead walking away from him, walking towards the faraway cliffs. Morgan grabbed the MagPro and ran around the vehicle, seizing Alonzo by the arm. "We've got to get out of here—!"
Alonzo broke free and whirled upon him. His eyes were empty, alien, and, as he took a step toward Morgan, he literally hissed at him.
Terrified, Morgan swung the heavy weapon like a club, catching Alonzo squarely on the side of his face. The force of the blow spun Alonzo around, actually knocked him to the ground.
"Oh no. Oh no. I didn't... I..." Morgan stared in horrified fascination, hardly able to believe what he'd just done.
The blow had opened a gash across Alonzo's cheek, but he was oblivious to it, was too intent on slowly trying to pull himself back up onto his feet.
Retreating a few steps, Morgan powered up the MagPro to point it threateningly at Alonzo. But what would he do if that threat didn't work? He wasn't actually going to shoot the man... was he? The gun quivered as his hands began to tremble. "Just stay there," he menaced, "don't come any closer..." Idiot. That didn't make any sense. He had to get Alonzo back to camp.
Alonzo tottered unsteadily on his feet. "M-Morgan..."
He lowered the weapon a fraction. And then he noticed the mangled fragments of equipment around Alonzo's face. The gear. He'd still been wearing the gear set when Morgan struck him. They'd only brought the one set. And it was smashed now. Useless. That meant they couldn't even call the camp for help. And they'd just checked in – the others wouldn't be expecting to see them for another two or three hours; they'd never know anything was wrong.
"All right," he gritted, trying to keep down the rising panic, "just keep calm. Keep calm. We're getting out of here. Get in the vehicle, Solace."
The pilot just stood there, made a noise that didn't really sound like it belonged in a human throat, and then tumbled awkwardly down to land in a sitting position.
Morgan felt like shrieking with frustration. Why did everything have to be so difficult! He definitely did not want to have to hit Alonzo again, but he also didn't trust him enough to want to get within reaching distance either. However, Alonzo wasn't giving him a lot of options.
He looked over his shoulder. So many dark wings in the sky. They were coming for them.
Morgan was an enthusiastic gunman, but not a particularly accurate shot. And there were far too many creatures for him to possibly hold off with one weapon.
With a despairing moan, he dropped the gun and picked Alonzo up as best he could, dragging him over to the vehicle and stuffing him inside as quickly as possible. By that point, the other man seemed almost catatonic, but, just to be on the safe side, Morgan found a short length of rope and swiftly wound it around his wrists. Alonzo didn't react at all.
Running back to retrieve the MagPro, Morgan then leaped back into the DuneRail, gunned the motor and spun the vehicle around, heading back toward the camp as fast as he could.
"Julia? Sorry to interrupt you..."
"No problem, Bess," she replied, looking up from her equipment scopes as the other woman entered her tent. "What can I do for you?"
"Danziger said you spoke to Alonzo and Morgan?"
"I spoke to Alonzo, yes," she confirmed. "He said that he and Morgan hadn't found anything, and that they were heading back to camp. Why? Is there something wrong?"
"Well," Bess began, almost sheepishly, "Morgan specifically asked me to monitor the gear beacon while he was away. I think he's still a little... nervous... after what happened before. He said that he'd feel better if I knew where he was, and that I should have my gear set up to receive their gear beacon. So I did, but I just lost the signal a little while ago."
"You lost the signal?" Julia repeated. "When?"
"I'm not sure," Bess admitted, obviously embarrassed. "I only stepped out of my tent for a little while, a few minutes at most. Just to break up an argument between Uly and True. They were getting so loud that I went over to see if I could help. They were arguing... something about the sand?" With a shrug, she shook off her puzzled look. "Anyway, my gear set. I wasn't watching it the whole time, but sometime after I got back, I realized I'd lost the signal. Do you think something's wrong?" she asked, growing anxious as Julia moved to retrieve her own gear.
"I spoke to them not too long ago," Julia said, flashing a reassuring smile as she began to put the headset on. "I'm sure nothing's wrong, but it doesn't hurt to check."
Over the course of the morning, Julia had run every test she could think of on the samples she'd taken from Alonzo, and so far she hadn't been able to find anything physically wrong with him. And yet, even with the lack of any concrete proof, she'd found herself slowly beginning to agree with Morgan. Something wasn't right, even if she couldn't see it, couldn't name it or understand it.
But she couldn't base her decisions on such irrational feelings, and so when Morgan had willingly agreed to go scouting with Alonzo today, she'd put aside her misgivings and had simply checked in with them quite regularly. Alonzo had seemed unusually subdued when she'd last spoken to him, but it hadn't concerned her too much until this moment.
Activating her gear, she tried to contact Morgan or Alonzo, but the same error message flashed repeatedly: 'Transmission failure – unable to establish communications link'.
Julia felt her smile grow a little bit hollow, but her voice was even as she suggested, "It could be a mechanical problem. I'll go talk to Danziger."
The DuneRail flew over the rough ground at speeds it was never meant to attain. But over the last few months, Danziger had tinkered and tweaked with the engines, making a few modifications here and there, until the vehicle could almost fly. The downside, of course, was that the safety specs went out the window at these kinds of speeds. If Morgan hit anything, he knew he was probably going to be very sorry.
However, at the moment, the dangers of driving too fast weren't exactly foremost in his mind. He sped wildly through the rugged landscape as though he were navigating one of his VR simulations, fervently hoping against hope that Danziger's tinkering was going to hold out, and that the engine wasn't going to overheat from the stress.
"Morgan," Alonzo croaked, the first sound he'd made since they'd started driving back, and even the sound of his voice startled Morgan, "there's something wrong—"
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the vehicle lurched violently with the sound of an explosion. Morgan struggled frantically to keep control, the DuneRail careening and swerving crazily. He thought he had it – he almost had it – and there was another crackling sound, and the vehicle spun wildly. Trying to avoid the biggest rocks, he slammed on the brakes, and there was a terrifying moment where he actually thought the vehicle might flip over. It didn't, but slid to a halt with a bumpy finality.
What the hell had just happened?
Morgan glanced at Alonzo – he seemed dazed but unhurt – then grabbed the MagPro and crept around the side of the vehicle. "Oh my god," he muttered, awed at the dark scorch marks on the side of the DuneRail, the almost melted tire. "Danziger is going to kill us." If they lived that long, anyway.
The barest flicker of movement caught his eye, and he whirled, pointing the MagPro before he even knew what he was facing. A Terrian. A Terrian stood nearby with staff in hand. Relief flooded through him. "Alonzo – your Terrians have come to help!"
Too late.
A dark shape dropped from the sky, heading straight for him. Activating the MagPro, Morgan aimed it toward the creature, only to have the weapon blasted out of his hands. The Terrian's staff flickered with energy, and Morgan realized abruptly that the Terrian hadn't come here to help them at all.
Several of the winged creatures had landed atop the DuneRail, and several more were whirling in the air immediately overhead, craning their heads to peer down at Morgan. Staggering backwards, Morgan flung his hands protectively over his head, wanting to flee, but not knowing which way to go. Alonzo howled wordlessly – Morgan realized that the other man was trapped in the vehicle; he'd tied his wrists, and now Alonzo couldn't even reach the release mechanism for the seatbelt.
Before he could do anything – run to help or run away – and to be honest, at that moment, he still wasn't sure which of the two it was going to be – the Terrian fired again, and this time the electrical current struck Morgan squarely in the chest. He toppled over, felt himself beginning to lose consciousness, and fervently hoped that when he woke again, he'd be lucky enough to find himself still alive.