Part Seven
“Below!” bellowed the
voice, sending soldiers diving in all directions. Rachel turned around and bemusedly
watched as a case of equipment that had been connected to a winch rope hit the rock, its
contents of food becoming instantly unrecognizable as the impact crushed it. There was a
stunned silence, a few muttered curses, and then people picked themselves up and dusted
themselves off, looking upward accusingly.
“Sorry!”
Rachel craned her head back to see
the apologetic winch operator from the shuttle above.
“Sorry isn’t good enough,
soldier!” boomed the irritatingly nasal voice of Captain Stuart Watts. “When you
have finished unloading that there shuttle you will be returning to base and bringing out
replacements!”
“Yes, sir!” yelled the
operator in reply.
Shaking her head, Rachel went back to
checking her equipment, which had made it safely down from the shuttle. “Idiot.”
Her succinct statement was aimed more at the captain than it was at the winch operator.
She wasn’t enamored of their military leader on this little expedition and had been
at odds with his superior attitude from the start. Right now the man was director of
operations as they landed all the equipment that he had insisted they needed.
She looked back and watched as the
six-foot-tall captain explained patronizingly to one of his soldiers how to assemble his
assault rifle. Anybody could see that the soldier he was talking to was a long-time
veteran. But the soldier listened and nodded his head where appropriate, no doubt thinking
at the same time what a prat Watts was.
The problem with Watts was that he
was good; everybody knew it and, unfortunately, so did he. And how he loved to make sure
that you didn’t forget it. Right from the way he stood, back ramrod straight, haughty
tilt to his head so that he always looked down his nose at you. The way he’d run his
hand across his ginger hair, making sure it was perfectly in place. Or the way he tugged
on his mustache when he was supposed to be listening to you, but was obviously paying you
very little attention. He was good looking, too: bottle-green eyes, romanoid nose and
rather pleasant to look at except for the small scar that angled down toward his chin from
the right corner of his cheek, giving him a perpetual sneer.
A nudge to Rachel’s arm took her
attention away from the admittedly handsome officer. Pity that he didn’t have the
personality to go with it. The nudge was from Lisa and she smiled in response.
“Yep?”
“We did brief Captain
'I’m-the-best-that-ever-lived' Watts on the cavern, didn’t we?”
Rachel leaned forward and wiped a
smudge of dirt off of Lisa’s cheek. Her hair, which was up in a tail because Carrie
her partner had refused to let her cut it when they returned to the town, was covered in
dust. “Yep, we did, girl. What have you been up to? You're filthy.”
“Carrie and I,” she swiped
at her hair, causing a billowing cloud of dust to rise, “went into the tunnel to show
the lads where they could set up their stuff. But Mr. Wonderful over there,” she
pointed at the young officer who was running his hand through his perfectly coifed hair in
frustration at the slow going of unloading the shuttles, “has told them to set up in
the main cavern.”
Sighing, Rachel looked again at Lisa.
“Why is it that men like him have to make the simplest things difficult? And why is
Tasha never around when you need her?” she remarked absently as she strolled off
toward the officer in question.
“Because she is baby-sitting
Storm. Or maybe that should be the other way around?” Lisa chuckled, thinking of all
the misadventures the pair had gotten themselves into since they had been left in the
jungle.
Yeah,
yeah, just rub it in that Tasha is the one getting to spend time with Storm, not me. Go
on, cheer me up that little bit more. Right. Better go put Mr. Big in his place. She
was almost looking forward to the confrontation with the captain; it might just release
some of her pent-up tension. She looked up to make sure she wasn’t going to get hit
by any falling objects or put herself in the way, then approached the soldier.
“Excuse me, Captain Watts? Could I have a quick word with you?”
+++
Captain Stuart Watts loved his job.
It was a pleasure for him to get up each morning and put on the uniform. He enjoyed the
discipline of the corps and the power his rank afforded him. The one thing he despised
about it was working with the civilians. He had thought that the advent of war would mean
that he didn’t have to listen to their petty requests or follow the rules and
regulations that they insisted on applying to just about everything. War wasn’t
fought by rules, but by people who knew when to break them and make up their own.
He’d risen in rank quickly in
the corps because he knew which rules he could break and which he couldn’t. As long
as nobody caught him he could break as many as he wanted. In reality, as long as he kept
showing his superiors the results they wanted they weren’t too bothered how he got
them. If a few of them knew what he was doing none of them had made any mention of it.
Those few who decided to look a little harder were dissuaded or had terrible accidents or
got killed on the front lines. These things happened in war, after all.
Captain Watts was known as a man who
could get things done, which was why Aston had approached him for this little job. Even if
it was gong to be worth it in the end, Watts still had to grit his teeth hard as he turned
to look at Rachel Bradley. “Yes, Dr Bradley, what can I do for you?” He smiled,
pasting sincerity all over his face.
“Your men are setting up
equipment in the main cavern. I’m sorry but I thought Dr. Delgado and I had already
explained why that wasn’t going to be possible.”
Yes,
you good doctors did explain but it isn’t as if the native is here now, is it? And
why the hell should some savage’s camping ground be special anyway? “Yes,
Dr. Delgado did explain to me that we need to leave the cavern untouched. I told her that
I would try to abide by her wishes but that it might not be possible.”
“Captain Watts, I understand
that you want your equipment as near as possible, which is why you are clearing the area
near the door in the tunnel. Surely it would make more sense to move the equipment down
there instead of unpacking it here? That way we satisfy both sides?” Rachel knew a
reasonable reply would throw the officer off his stride. He couldn’t really disagree
with her unless he wanted to show everybody he had ordered them to set up in the main
cavern just to make things awkward.
Watts looked over at his men, some of
whom had stopped to listen. He knew that they would follow his orders if he gave them; he
also knew that most of them didn’t like him. Right now he needed them to have no
doubts. “Okay, I’ll tell them to move into the tunnel.”
Rachel's face lightened with the
smile that broke out on it. Gotcha. “Thank
you, Captain. We truly appreciate it.” She made her way back to Lisa, making sure
that her friend could see a smug smile. “See. All you have to do is hit them where it
hurts and you’ve got them,” she said conspiratorially as she got close.
“So I noticed,” the
xenobiologist replied. “Still the man makes my skin crawl and there is something that
I just don’t like about him.”
“Oh, I can agree with that. I
dislike him even more because he was Aston’s personal choice for this little
trip.” Rachel picked up her bag and carefully followed Lisa back to the cavern
entrance.
“When we mentioned his name,
Tasha didn’t seem too impressed with him, either.”
“I noticed that as well. Maybe
we can get it out of her when we see her. I got the impression that she didn’t want
to say anything over the comms system,” replied Rachel, slipping into the dark
entrance.
******************
Wind whipped around the treetops,
sending the boughs swaying with vigor. The leaves chattered amongst themselves and Tasha
walked amid them with relative ease. A few days of tree walking had made her more
confident in her abilities, even the strong breeze that blew at these heights didn’t
put her off her stride.
Storm's second home was as far
different from the first as she could get. Tasha had been frankly amazed when she saw it.
When Storm said they were heading for the tall tree, the marine had assumed that her home
would be in another outcropping of rock. That hadn’t turned out to be the case. The
tree wasn’t just tall it was incredibly wide and must have been hundreds of years
old. Storm had said it was her home and she meant it. High up in the crown, living
branches and vines had been woven together to create sides and roofs to rooms; the boughs
were the floors.
The place was incredible; there were
no less than five separate rooms and, had she wanted, Storm could have had more. Two were
used as storage space. One had a wash area that funneled rainwater through a hollowed
tube. She could either put the water into the leaf containers she made to keep it, or
shower under it. Another room seemed to be a communal room for eating, the final one a
sleeping area. The rooms obviously weren’t as big as the cavern but could seat four
or five people comfortably.
Another advantage that Tasha could
see was that you never had to leave the heights of the treetops to move around. The large
boughs of the tree interconnected with those surrounding it. The most traveled routes were
easily seen: the boughs were worn and in some places vines were available to head down to
the forest floor.
When Tasha asked, Storm confirmed
that several of the primate animals that live in the forest also used the walkways to
traverse the heights. It was much easier than trying to get through the cluttered jungle
floor.
They had arrived at the tree
yesterday, just before noon, and settled in immediately. Storm began clearing the debris
that had built up in her absence and evicting the few tenants that her home had acquired.
Tasha decided to go exploring and found another reason that the tree was such a good home;
it was situated near a stand of fruit-producing trees. Not only did they have fruit as a
food source but also the animals that fed on the fruit would be nearby, making hunting
easier.
Tasha felt the bough she was walking
along flex and knew that Storm had landed behind her. She smiled. “I know you're
there; I felt you land.” She turned, frowning when she didn’t see the expected
lithe form of her companion. A tap on her shoulder startled her and she spun around to see
her friend's smirking face. “How the hell do you do that?”
Storm laughed. “I learn.”
“So I noticed.”
Tasha’s voice dropped into sullenness. She wasn’t used to being startled. In
fact, she wasn’t used to anybody being able to walk up to her without being noticed.
She was a good marine and took it very seriously. Her training had saved her life on more
than one occasion and the constant teasing from Storm was starting to get to her.
Storm must have been able to
recognize that on some level because her next words startled Tasha even more. “You
learn?”
“Oh, yeah, like it won’t
take me half a lifetime to figure out how you do it.” Gee, Tasha, take it out on her why don’t you? It
isn’t her fault; the girl grew up in a jungle for Christ’s sake. It isn’t
as if she had much choice but to learn how to survive.
“Storm learns you.” She
pointed to her own chest with the most winning smile Tasha had ever seen that wasn’t
directed at Rachel. Tasha wanted to melt right there and then. It didn’t matter what
she was doing, Storm managed somehow to make it all worthwhile. It made you wonder what
type of person she would have been, growing up in a society.
“The word is 'teach,' sweetie.
Storm will teach Tasha how to move quietly?”
“Yes, yes. Storm teach
Tasha.”
“I’d like that,” Tasha
replied, impulsively pulling Storm into a hug. “Come on then. Show me how you manage
to move like the wind and creep up on me.”
******************
Organized chaos were the only words
that could be used to describe the scene. Stuart Watts had been true to his word and had
instructed his men to move all the equipment into the tunnel. As he had pointed out, the
additional equipment left little space for movement.
Rachel maintained a safe distance
from the work going on at the metal doors and was leaning against the tunnel wall,
watching with interest as they tried to get in. Carrie and Lisa were still in the cavern
cataloguing Storm's possessions, just to insure that nothing was taken.
Lisa had brought a digital scanner so
that she could map the cavern and take pictures of the wall paintings that Storm had done
over the years. That way they could study them in detail without having to climb all over
the place… though Rachel had to admit she found dangling from the ceiling of the
cavern to be an exciting experience.
Stuart Watts stretched
his tall frame, working out the kinks that had settled, while he supervised his technical
crew who were trying to open the doors. He’d been surprised at the technology used in
the construction of the doors. They were sealed by an electromagnetic field and, as far as
they could tell, the atmosphere behind the doors was of a negative pressure. That meant
that when the doors were eventually opened air would be sucked into whatever shaft or room
might be behind them.
It left him two problems
to deal with. The first was how to break the seal holding the doors closed. Considering
how long they must have been closed, they had been startled to find that a small trickle
of energy still supplied the doors, and they had found no way to turn off the power. The
second was that they didn’t know how much of a negative pressure was behind the
doors. A small one would have a negligible impact; a small amount of air would enter when
they opened the door. On the other hand, a larger one could suck whoever was in front of
the door into whatever was behind. If only a room lay beyond, then it wasn’t much of
a problem. If it were an elevator shaft, however, then it could prove to be a rather
sticky ending for the person in question. Watts rubbed at his neck, wiping away the sheen
of dripping sweat that had accumulated and rolled annoyingly down his back at regular
intervals.
“Any suggestions,
Baldwin?” he snapped at the man who knelt examining the door.
“Well, sir, we could
pack up and go home. But I’m guessing that isn’t an option, so I’d say a
small explosive charge placed just here.” The soldier pointed to the middle section
of the base of the door. “That will hopefully disrupt the magnetic seal long enough
for us to pry the door open and once it is open we should be able to keep it that
way.”
“And what about the
negative pressure variant on the other side?”
“Well, sir, that is
a chance we’ll just have to take,” replied the soldier.
“No, Baldwin, that
is a chance you will have to take. Get it done and let me know when you're in.”
Baldwin nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
Thirty minutes later, a
muffled thud in the main cavern announced that the charge placed by the door had detonated
and the lack of dust and debris being forced from the tunnel told them they hadn’t
been wrong about the negative pressure.
Lisa picked up her
backpack and handed Carrie hers, before walking over to Rachel. Soon after the main group
returned to the cavern, the women had finished scanning and cataloguing Storm's effects.
Rachel had joined them, pitching in and helping out with the last odds and ends. The women
decided to spend the first few days at this site before moving up to join Tasha and Storm.
The doors had been
opened, of that there was no doubt; in fact they had been blown off. Carrie wasn’t so
sure that Watts had intended that to happen. He was angry. Anybody could tell that from
the way he stalked around and yelled his commands; the way he testily swiped at the dust
that had settled on his impeccable uniform.
Contrary to what they had
believed, there hadn’t been an elevator shaft behind the doors, instead there was an
anteroom of sorts. Watts had already instructed his marine troops to secure the room.
Against what, Carrie wasn’t so sure, unless Watts thought that the control panel--the
only structure within the room bar the other set of doors at the far side--was going to
suddenly attack.
The opening of the new
room produced a chill in the previously stuffy air of the tunnel. Carrie pulled on a
long-sleeved shirt to prevent the goose bumps from appearing across her arms. Like
everybody else, she was curious as to what would happen next. Her partner was chatting to
two of the marines and Rachel was busy cleaning a deep laceration that one had sustained
just after the blast.
Sighing with more than a
trace of the boredom she felt, Carrie slowly ambled into the room, carefully picking her
way through the debris scattered across the floor.
The slight trickle of
power that had kept the door sealed turned out to be more than a slight trickle. The
control panel still had a supply of power to it. The lighting system which they
hadn’t quite figured out yet still worked, producing enough light for them all to
work by. Two engineers were studying the control panel, a computer tech having said that
it would most likely be the key to giving them access past the other door. Unfortunately,
although the unit was still drawing power they hadn’t managed to get it functioning.
And although Watts was the best of the best of the best, he’d neglected to bring a
linguist or cipher with him to interpret the symbols and language on the panel.
Right now they were in a
holding pattern, waiting for something to happen, which of course was one thing that
Carrie hated to be doing. Being nosy, but trying to stay out of the soldiers' way, she
picked her way around the room. It was roughly fifteen feet square; the walls were of
smooth granite-like stone, hard and cool to the touch. Running the palm of her right hand
along the wall, she trudged around it, occasionally looking over at the marines by the
panel or at Baldwin who was once again studying the doors.
Occasionally she would
have to step around a couple of the marines who were moving equipment; they’d nod
politely or smile at her. On her third circuit of the room, absorbed in her own thoughts,
she almost missed the pattern of temperature changes her hand crossed. Stopping and
turning to face the wall, she put her left hand to the wall. There was a definite change
in temperature; not that she had a clue what it meant.
Keeping both hands on the
wall, she began to study it closely. Not seeing anything of significance, she stepped
away, hoping that distance would show her something. It was like looking at one of those
annoyingly addictive 3D pictures. You knew that there was something there to see, but it
was hell detecting it. Ignoring the warm presence of her lover as she placed her arm
around her, she continued to peer intently at the wall.
“What you looking
at, sweetie?” Lisa asked as she pulled her partner closer and followed her gaze to
the wall.
“The wall.”
Carrie’s absent
reply caused Lisa to chuckle. “No! Really? I couldn’t have guessed that one in a
million years.”
“Hmm,” Carrie
agreed, leaning forward to stare harder.
“Soooo, what is so
interesting about the wall then, my love?” Lisa whispered into Carrie's ear and
softly inhaled her intoxicating scent, missing their private rooms in town, where they had
spent too little time in recent months.
Carrie suddenly became
aware of the closeness of her lover, the deepening warmth where her arm was wrapped around
her shoulders and the thrill of sexual tension that traveled right down her body and
settled in the pit of her stomach. Jesus, honey,
couldn’t you wait till we could actually act on this? “Er, the walls.”
She quickly looked around but saw nobody taking an interest, so gently placed her lips
against Lisa’s temple. “I’ll get you for this later.”
Grinning, Lisa openly
returned the kiss. “Oh, you had better.” She turned back to the wall and leaned
into Carrie. “So what was it about the wall?”
“It changes
temperature. Depending on where you put your hands, the temperature is different. Put your
hands on the walls.”
With an amused grin Lisa
did just that and allowed Carrie to place her hands in the right place without too much
teasing. “You're right, it is different,” she said and removed her hands.
“I guess you ought to tell Watts. It might be a power conduit or something that will
let us get through those doors."
******************
Tasha clenched her toes,
trying to induce circulation into the smaller extremities. She had been standing in this
position for at least an hour. Storm had an innovative teaching method and despite her
rather limited vocabulary she managed to get her point across with little trouble. It
fascinated Tasha that Storm apparently had limitless amounts of patience. It wasn’t
that Tasha wasn’t eager to learn from her, more that she got frustrated when she
didn’t nail a task the first time. But as she soon found out, moving with the stealth
of Storm involved more than just walking quietly.
They had started the
lesson back at the treehouse, with Storm trying to explain to Tasha that she needed to
know the forest around her, to be aware of everything from the smallest whisper of the
wind in the leaves to the purr of the feral cat or the creep of the vines. At first Tasha
thought that she was talking mumbo-jumbo. But she listened, taking in all the information
that Storm was passing on. They then progressed to the outside and Tasha thought that she
was at last going to see a demonstration of Storm's technique. How wrong had she been;
they’d gone outside to listen to the life of the forest.
She had gotten just a tad
impatient with lack of progress. The tall, raven-haired woman had just chuckled and in her
own way patiently explained that Rome wasn’t built in a day. Tasha argued back that
Rome may not have been built in a day but at least it had been built. She cringed a
little, remembering Storm's response to that.
“I don’t see what all this
has to do with you being able to creep up on me every second of the day or night. So I now
know the difference between a cat and a creeper. Big wow. How does that help me?”
grumped Tasha as she threw herself down into a soft pile of leaf litter that had grouped
at the bottom of their tree.
Storm looked over her shoulder,
eyebrow raised, and Tasha could actually hear the sigh of frustration that her remarks had
brought forth. “You need to know.”
“So you say, but why?”
Storm placed her hands on her hips
and turned around. It was such a human action that Tasha really had to stop herself from
laughing at her friend's response. Storm hadn’t only picked up the language faster
than they had expected, she had also picked up their mannerisms.
With another sigh of disgust Storm
came closer and crouched in front of Tasha, her tanned legs showing off her perfectly
toned muscles that belied the strength held within them.
“You are a warrior? Yes?”
“Yeah, I’m a soldier,”
replied Tasha, her eyes automatically drawn to the sky-blue ones of Storm.
“Are you a good one?” Storm
sat supporting herself on her left arm, while her other hand played with an Irish tag on
the shorts she was wearing.
“I’m one of the better
ones. There are many better than I am but I’m no slouch.”
“You have bad things that you
fight against?”
A frown creased Tasha’s face as
her mind turned over, trying to see where Storm was leading her. “Yes, we have
enemies. That is one of the reasons we are here now. We are at war with people who have
invaded our homes. They have taken what was ours and the people here are the ones who have
escaped from their attacks.”
"How do you tell the bad people
from you?” Storm inquired and Tasha sensed a genuine interest from the woman.
“Do you mean how do I tell the
bad guys from the good guys?” Storm nodded. “That depends; normally they are the
ones shooting at you.” Tasha chuckled at that, realizing that Storm most likely
hadn’t been in that many firefights. “Sorry. I mean that they are the ones
trying to hurt you or capture you.”
The woman nodded. “But when you
fight how do you know you aren’t fighting your friend? How do you tell them from the
others?”
“Oh I see. You want to know how
we would tell each other apart if we were, say, fighting in your forest or
something.”
“Yep.” Storm had obviously
decided that a break was in order, because she had now switched positions and laid herself
down, her focus on the tree canopy above her while still paying attention to the
conversation.
“We do that in many ways. We
wear a uniform and we have communication systems so that we can tell our command where we
are.”
Storm was now playing with a leaf she
had picked up. “Don’t have that here. Need to know what is good and what is bad
to you.”
“But how does that help you to
move quietly? Or without me seeing you or hearing you?”
Turning her head, Storm pointed to
her eyes. “Easy to trick. Ears not so easy.”
“Now, that I understand,”
replied Tasha, laying down next to Storm and staring up into the trees.
“Close your eyes and
listen.” Tasha closed her eyes and Storm waited a few minutes…then softly began
a low growling.
“That’s one of those cats
that attacked us.” Tasha blinked open her eyes and sat up, staring around quickly for
the source of danger. Her eyes finally rested on Storm. “That was you?”
Storm nodded, grinning at Tasha.
“Very easy to trick eyes; have to learn how to trick ears as well.”
“You mean to tell me all this
time that I have heard you creeping up on me; just that I haven’t realized it was
you?” Storm grinned again.
So here Tasha was,
standing perfectly still. Every now and then Storm would approach and Tasha would attempt
to hear her by calling out what she thought was out of place. It was easy now to see how
Storm accomplished her seemingly amazing feats. She knew every sound and nuance of this
rainforest but visitors here didn’t and therefore couldn’t tell what they should
or shouldn’t be hearing.
The first couple of
times she hadn’t picked out the right animal or sound, but as they had continued
their lesson Tasha had gotten better at picking her out. Of course, picking Storm out when
you knew she was trying to creep up on you was a helluva lot easier than picking her out
when you didn’t have a clue, but Tasha felt much better about it now. The next step
would obviously be trying to hide her movements with the sounds of the rainforest.
“Okay, Ms.
Storm, that one was too obvious.” Tasha smiled as she heard the creak of a bough and
the barely audible click of what was supposed to be claws. She opened her eyes and stared
about her. Storm was nowhere in sight, but Tasha knew she was there. Whirling around, she
was just in time to see Storm jump from the bough above. Laughing, she yelled,
“Gotcha,” to her playmate who was just as pleased for her achievement as she was
pleased at herself for doing it.
********************
Carrie’s
inquisitiveness and boredom had paid off in a big way. Watts actually listened when she
had told him of the temperature anomaly at the wall. Several minutes of scanning confirmed
that there was indeed a power conduit running behind the wall. A detailed examination by
the engineers that they had with them soon found the switch that opened the paneling.
What was revealed
was more than any of them had expected. The panel slid back, exposing detailed schematics
of what they assumed lay below them. Apparently the room was not only an information
center but also the entrance to what looked to be a whole city beneath the ground. As far
as they could tell, the city stretched for miles on many different levels. There was
enough linguistic information on the diagram to allow them to begin deciphering the
language though that would obviously take some time.
The excitement of
the find hadn’t affected only the expedition party. Watts immediately reported back
to the council, who were now in session discussing the latest find. Sue Rogers had made
planetfall to study the information that had been discovered. The military aspects of the
find were vast; it was assumed that if any part of the civilization remained, there would
have been some form of communication with them by now. They further assumed that either
there was nobody below or they were extremely good at hiding their own comms and power
usage.
To Rachel and the
girls it was an obvious explanation of where Storm had originated. It also explained to
some extent why she had set up home in the cavern. If this was the entrance to the
underground city, it must have been where she had returned to get back in.
Whatever
catastrophic event had destroyed the culture, it seemingly had little effect on the city.
That assumption had come from Watts, who quite logically explained that the city must have
been abandoned some time ago for all traces of it to be erased from the surface of the
planet, and seeing as the panels still had power the place couldn’t have been that
badly hit.
That of course
brought up the question: if it hadn’t been that badly hit why abandon it in the first
place?
Back in the main
cavern, Rachel started a small fire in Storm's fire pit. Her time in the forest had spoilt
her palate and she had no wish to return to the ration packs that the soldiers had
brought. She also took the opportunity to try to contact Tasha. Their conversation was
brief, but Rachel quickly explained what they had found and that it may be some time
before she, Lisa and Carrie made it to Storm's other camping ground.
She had signed off
with a sense of dissatisfaction. Apart from the need for refuge from the war, the big
reason Rachel had for heading back here was to find the stranger who had helped her three
years previously. She had done that, but now found it almost impossible to be with her.
And she had to listen to Tasha report about having the time of her life with the woman.
Jealous was too
mild a descriptive to use, by far. The possessiveness she felt for Storm was unrivaled
and, logically, that disturbed Rachel more. What did she have to be possessive about? It
wasn’t as if there was any hope of anything more developing between them. And
just what did she want to have develop anyway? Storm, though
learning extraordinarily quickly, was more like a child than an adult. Any sort of
relationship that might spring between them would have to be based on that fact. Hell, to
take it any further would be like robbing the cradle; the mere idea of such a thing was
repugnant. If the situation were changed maybe… perhaps over time Storm would
progress enough to understand what an intimate relationship would entail. Till then Rachel
would just have to be satisfied with being the woman’s mother figure and nothing
more.
The depression that
descended over her at such reasoning was palpable. It spread around her, settling into all
the nooks and crannies. Carrie and Lisa had noticed it as soon as she had returned from
topside. No amount of kidding and chiding had brought her from it or had gotten the cause
of it from her.
Troubled green eyes
stared into the pot of stew that she was stirring. Storm hadn’t been around to hunt
for them today but they had enough dried meat to use; having lived in the cavern for a few
days, they knew where to find the fruits and roots needed to fill out the concoction.
A whoop of joy
echoed down the tunnel, closely followed by two marines who came to an abrupt halt at the
sight of three women around the fire, looking at them.
Rachel raised her
eyebrow at the pair. “Sorry ma’am,” the taller of the two young men said,
straightening himself up. “Marine Cowl, and this,” he slapped a hand into the
abdomen of his smaller companion, “is Marine Kopov. Captain Watts just radioed
through. He wanted us to let you know that they had managed to get power to the control
panel and open the other doors. He says for you to be in the control room in an hour if
you want to go down with them, ma’am.”
The girls looked at
each other. “And this caused your yell of joy, why?” Rachel asked as she reached
over and took the three plates that were near Carrie and began to share out the meal.
The two marines,
who were really no more than boys, looked a little sheepish at the implied chastisement.
“Ah, well, ma’am, that would be because it means we get to go down there
first.”
“Don’t
see why that would be a joyous occasion. We haven’t got a clue what we will find down
there,” Carrie said, taking a plate from Rachel and handing it to Lisa who was
slouched next to her.
“Er, well,
see,” the tall black-haired marine was uncomfortable at having to explain himself to
the women, “it means we get first pickings at anything we find.”
“Don’t
forget bragging rights,” mumbled Lisa around a mouthful of stew.
“Ahh! That
explains it,” replied Rachel, leaning back to eat her dinner and looking at the
marines. “You two gonna help us with our equipment?”
“Yes,
ma’am.” The smaller marine spoke for the first time and even from here Rachel
could see a blush starting up his face.
“Well, we are
all packed and ready to go, so it will just be a case of carrying it down there. Pull up a
rock and help yourself to the food; there is plenty of it.” Without hesitation, the
young men accepted the offer and joined the women by the fire.
To be continued in
Part 8.