Nottingham dragged himself upright with the help of a nearby tree trunk. The jungle seemed to spin around him as he stood. Closing his eyes did not help with the dizziness, but shutting out the light seemed to help with the headache.

How long did he stand there, bark digging into his palms? Minutes? Hours? Time lost meaning, only misery was measured in the throb of his brain. Eventually the pain lessened enough that Nottingham risked opening his eyes.

The rest of the Dragons were still sprawled around the fire pit, the remnants of breakfast lying around them. Ian staggered to Niccoli, who was closest, dropping to his knees to check the other man's vitals. Niccoli's pulse was slow, but steady.

Not wanting to stand up again, Nottingham crawled to the next man. He knocked over a nearly empty bowl as he settled next to Lee. He paused for a moment, knowing something was wrong with what he was looking at, but still hurting enough that it took time to understand what he was seeing.

The bowl held only the manioc root porridge they had been eating for breakfast every morning. It shouldn't. The local insect population was very aggressive; they should have been all over the undefended food. Given that insects ate all manner of things that humans considered 'spoiled', there was only one answer. The porridge had been poisoned.

Or should that be, 'doctored'?

Mobius had warned them all. He had said that Burke would become as unstable and delusional as they had become during the withdrawal, but Ian had not seen it. Looking back, he had to admit that he had not wanted to see it. Oh, there had been no outbursts, no assaults on the other Dragons, but Moira had never been one for physical violence. No, she preferred to use her formidable mind to achieve her ends.

It only made sense, given her psychological makeup, for Moira to plot and then wait for the opportune moment to implement her plan. With a village less than a day's hike, this was her best chance to disappear Either Moira's claim of botanical ignorance had been a sham or she had smuggled sedatives out of the lab, but the outcome was the same. They were incapacitated while she was in full possession of her facilities and running with a good lead.

"Fuuuukkk," the heartfelt but muted complaint pulled Ian away from his thoughts.

"Moby, you ok?" Ian finished checking Beck. The question was largely rhetorical. If the other man was well enough to curse than he wasn't in need of immediate attention.

"Better than most, I suspect." Mobius slowly sat up, one hand cradling his head. "I realized what the aftertaste had to be after several bites, so I didn't get the full dosage."

"Lucky you," Nottingham mumbled as he crawled to Taurins.

"That is a matter for debate; I believe I would prefer to yet be unconscious." Mobius grimaced.

"I sympathize, but we don't have that luxury. Moira is gone. I must go after her." Nottingham was already making plans to catch up with his beloved. With Mobius awake, he could go ahead and scout ahead while the others were wakened.

"Must you?" The irony was heavy in his rich voice.

"Of course I must. She needs me." Nottingham met Mobius' eyes with stubborn conviction.

Moby sighed; he was not looking forward to this discussion, especially not with the hideous pounding in his head as counterpoint. "I am not so certain of that, my friend."

"How can you say that? Moira is pregnant, thousands of miles away from anything familiar, and suffering a paranoid episode."

"She is doing well enough to flee our presence," Mobius waved aside the argument Nottingham opened his mouth to make, "Her pregnancy slowed her yes, but she still did better than most Greenies, and a certain amount of paranoia will do well to keep her alive."

"But,"

"But nothing," Mobius interrupted again. "Set your emotions aside for a moment and think logically. Our plan has been to escape and return, so that we can avenge ourselves on those who sent us to our deaths. Even should Burke choose not to come with us the entire way back into the States, the investigation following our resurrection will doubtless bring her survival to light."

"Not necessarily," Nottingham protested.

"If you had the welfare of three unborn children as your first priority, you would not trust to chance. The government faked her death once to get their hands on your progeny. Perhaps it would be best if we give credence to that particular fiction."

"You mean, let her go?" Disbelief and denial warred for dominance on his face.

"Yes." Mobius' tone softened, "We have been moving toward this day from the moment we escaped. Perhaps it is better this way; you might not have chosen to come back with us otherwise."

"I was going to ask her to marry me," Ian admitted.

"The five of you on the run, what kind of life would that have been?" Moby arched a sardonic brow.

"Better that than Moira running alone, trying to stay ahead of pursuit with three children." Ian retorted sharply.

"If we had returned without you, what do you think would have happened?"

"My father would have used every last one of his considerable resources to scour the continents until he found me." Nottingham admitted grudgingly.

"Do you see where that kind of heat could be difficult to dodge?"

"He will do no less for Moira; she is carrying the next generation of his grand scheme."

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what scheme, but Moby held the question for another time. "Not if he believes she is dead."

"Without a body, he will be difficult to convince." Nottingham closed his eyes for a moment, trying to blot out the vision of his children growing up as he had.

"Not if you are convincing enough."

"I am a terrible liar."

"I know." Mobius curled a lip upward, but it was more of a grimace than smile. "We'll have to work on that."

.o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o. .o..o. .o. .o.

Listening to Taurins report on the village at the river's edge, Burke understood what she was hearing far better than the Dragons did. He mentioned mules loaded down with panniers going into the village, no one buying anything, the large dock, and she had realized just what the little market must be. It was a tourist trap.

She had heard about them from Vargas. When the steamers came up the river, they stopped and turned the Gringos loose for a few hours of shopping for local crafts. His family made better money off their weavings there than they did selling them to exporters. These 'villagers' probably didn't even live there either, as there were myriad reasons not to sleep next to the river.

It was the perfect place to disappear. Burke would wait for the next ship and go back on board with the tourists. If anyone noticed, she could just claim that she had been accidentally left behind from the previous tour. The story would be easily swallowed. After all, how else would a very pregnant white woman end up in the middle of nowhere?

Now that she had somewhere to go, it was time to enact the plan that she had been working on since she had realized that she would not go back to America with them. It was obvious that the only reason they were putting up with her slowing them down was that they wanted her children, just like Irons and Casca.

Well, they couldn't have them. They were hers. She would see them safe, raised properly in the salten air of the Hebrides and not the sterile confinement of a lab. After seeing what they had done to Ian, Burke knew she would do anything to keep the same thing from happening to her children.

She added the reduction of passionflower leaves, which she had been decocting over the last five days, to breakfast. Burke had been faking morning sickness for several days, so no one thought anything about her refusing to eat with them. She had watched as the men slowed, seen the realization on Mobius' face as he struggled to rise and failed.

She stayed just long enough to make sure no one was going to stop breathing and put out the small fire they had cooked over, and then left. The scientist in her had not been pleased with the amount of guesswork involved in the dosage required to sedate the Dragons with the maltol. An overdose could kill as quickly as a hungry jaguar, which was partially why she had chosen breakfast to drug them.

The only predators that would be dangerous to humans were nocturnal, and despite everything she did not wish them dead. The other reason for breakfast was that it gave her more daylight to run. Sneaking off in the night was just plain stupid, and giving them a strong enough dose that they would sleep both night and day away could result in them not waking at all.

Burke slipped through the foliage, determined to make the most of her lead. She couldn't depend on the effects of the maltol lasting past noon. Half a day wasn't much of a head start for a pregnant woman, but if she had timed it right, six hours lead was all she would need.

She heard the village before she could see it, the call of the barkers carrying clearly through the mid-morning air. When Burke came to the top of the hill she was relieved, not only to see the village, but to see she had been correct in her assumptions. Scattered amid the dark-skinned natives were the pale northern tourists. She had never been so glad to see those ambassadors of capitalism in her life.

The market was bustling with activity; no one noticed that she joined the shopping from the jungle instead of the wharf. Burke cheerfully haggled for camouflaging souvenirs, also buying several embroidered smocks and skirts that would go with her pregnancy corset.

The clothes that she had escaped with were much the worse for wear after her time spent roughing it. What she was wearing now was the best of the lot. She had left the rest behind so it wouldn't slow her down.

Burke merged with the other tourists as the ship's whistle blew, summoning them back to the dock. She made sure to strike up a conversation with one of the older couples, pretending to listen as they bragged about their grandchildren, but most of her attention was on her surroundings.

They made it up the gangplank unchallenged, but Burke continued to scan the tree line for Dragons until the village disappeared around the river bend. She had gotten away clean, so why wasn't she happy?

Blaming pregnancy hormones for her depression, Burke went to find the lavatory. Getting cleaned up ought to lift her spirits.