Sarah Zettel - Reclamation

“First you can serve by getting yourselves warm and dry,” said Lu, putting his steady smile back into place. “Come here, if you will.”

Trail and Cups followed Jay, walking so close together their shoulders almost touched. Jay had set up an empty metal crate near the back wall of the shelter. A coal fire burned in the middle of it. For the first couple of testees, he had tried to introduce them to heating elements, but none of them would come near the glowing coils.

When Jay stood back to make room for them, Trail and Cups approached the fire without hesitation and held out their scarred hands over the flames, rubbing and blowing on their knuckles. They stripped off their headcloths and ponchos, wringing out the extra water onto the floor. Fortunately, Lu would be spared from having to mop up the mess. The porous polymer absorbed it and let it drain into the ground underneath.

“Now then, Trail and Cups, hear this,” said Lu as the women dried themselves off. “I am going to show you a strange place and ask you some questions you may not see the reason for. To serve, you must stay calm and use the wits the Nameless bestowed upon you when they gave you your lives. You’ll be home before night touches your rooftops again. Can you do this?”

“Good sir, we can,” said Trail, bowing her head humbly.

Lu rolled his eyes. “Then you have my thanks.” He glanced at Jay and switched to Standard. “You coming down?”

“No.” Jay dropped into the chair in front of the encampment stove and yanked off his boots. “I’ve got to make it back before the Seablades show up. King Silver wants her Skyman beside her so she can show how badly she’s breaking all the rules.”

“Well, you know the real rule.”

“If it works, don’t argue,” Jay chorused with him. He stuffed his boots and socks into the stove and set the controls for clothes drying.

“Good luck,” he said as he leaned back.

“Thanks,” answered Lu. “I still wish we didn’t have to do it this way.”

Jay made himself shrug casually again. “Those are the orders. No more volunteers go offworld until we find out what the Vitae have done with or to Stone in the Wall.” He frowned toward the stove. Should have had word about that by now, even if it isn’t ever going to come from where Lu thinks it will.

“Whatever you say. You’re the boss of this little expedition.” Lu shrugged.

“It’s not my idea,” Jay reminded him. Believe me, I’d just as soon be shoveling everyone we can get our hands on into the shuttle hold. “ It’s the committee’s. It’s not so bad, though. We do need to be careful. The Vitae are awfully close to making their move on this place.”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you.”

Yes, I would. “ Let me alone, Lu. I exiled myself years ago.”

“Sorry,” said Lu sheepishly. “It’s an old habit.”

“I know.” The stove chimed and Jay opened the door to retrieve his footgear. “Take care.”

“Keep your back to the wall.”

Jay refrained from mentioning that here it was impossible to do anything else.

Lu waited for Trail and Cups to rewrap their ponchos and turbans before he led them to the trapdoor he had jury-rigged in the floor. Underneath it lay a second hatchway, flush to a smooth patch of some silicate-like substance that had been exposed by years of wind and water rushing across it.

Lu dug his fingers into the crack between the hatch and the silicate and, with a grant of effort, raised the lid. Cups and Trail exchanged apprehensive glances when they saw the smooth-sided, dark well in front of them. Lu pressed the key that turned on the lights he had strung on adhesive pads down the side. The illumination did little more than show the fact that the tunnel’s walls were grey and unmarked, broken only by the string of lights and the jointed ladder Lu had hung from the edge of the drop.

Lu had tried to drill holes in the wall to make rungs for a proper ladder, but the silicate wouldn’t yield to anything, including a welding torch.

Nonchalantly, Lu grabbed the ladder’s rungs and started his descent. Cups swallowed visibly, but followed as soon as she had room. Trail glanced back at Jay, her eyes narrow and calculating.

Jay started. Stone in the Wall had given him the same look before she’d agreed to come with him up the canyon.

Do you suppose we’ve finally hit diamond?

Trail turned her attention toward the ladder and started down it. Jay realized he was biting his lower lip and released it. It was a bad habit he’d picked up from Cor. Telltale signs of nervousness had been creeping into his features more and more often.

He stuffed his feet back into his socks and boots, pausing a minute to let the warmth restore at least some measure of circulation to his feet. Then Jay retrieved his cloak and face mask and steeled himself to walk back outside. He really wanted to wait the rain out in the civilized atmosphere of the dome.

How far gone am I when a portable shelter is civilized? he wondered irritably.

He shoved the door aside. Without pausing, he ducked out into the canyon. The door slapped shut behind him.

The canyon’s darkness folded around him like another cloak. The rain had stopped, leaving nothing but puddles with crusts of ice forming rapidly. The sun was over the walls of the main canyon, Jay knew, but the night’s unforgiving cold and dark lingered for hours longer in this side crack. Still, Jay felt his breathing ease, not just from the change in the weather, but from getting away from Lu. It was always easier to think on his own.

It’s so close to finished, I’m getting nervous. And I should have had word by now. Uary’s had plenty of time to find out what that woman is.

Just check the transmitter and get back where you belong, Jahidh, he ordered himself.

All three of the team wore the neckline terminals commonly called “torques” that worked in conjunction with their translator disks to allow them to keep in touch with each other over limited distances. But offworld transmission required more power and a lot more circuitry. When Jay had suggested that the spare transmitter should be set up somewhere away from the shelter, Lu and Cor had both agreed. The reasoning he’d used on them was that if the weather, or a hostile native managed to destroy the shelter, there’d still be a way for the survivors to get word out. His real reasoning had been that the communications system needed a weak link he could exploit.

Jay switched the lantern on and strapped it to his arm. He pointed the beam up the rocky cliff, tracking the handholds Lu had so carefully gouged into the stone. He took a deep breath and flexed his hands before he hoisted himself up the rocky cliff. The rock hadn’t had the chance to absorb any heat from the new day. It was like climbing a ragged block of ice. Jay gritted his teeth and kept on climbing.

About ten meters above the canyon floor, the cliff broke away. Jay swung his leg over the lip and dropped down into a pocket-sized valley. Places like this were called “flood cups” by the inhabitants of the Realm because they could sometimes fill up with water and spill out into the canyon. This one, however, had several drainage holes drilled in it. Jay only had to splash through a few shallow puddles to reach the transmitter.

The unit was a stack of squat boxes. Everything they used on this planet had to be sheltered against the torrential rains and freezing cold that came with night.

Jay undid the straps holding the lantern to his sleeve and hooked it onto the side of the transmitter so he could see what he was doing. Then he lifted back the cover on the main unit. All the keys and displays glowed with a steady amber light and were completely blank.