Unknown - The_Growing_589064

“It’s not for you to allow or not, General.” Koda speaks softly but firmly. “Dr. King fought her way—alone—from Washington all the way to Minot to get the shut-down code for the droids. She infiltrated the Base there and successfully passed herself off as a droid.” She hesitates for a moment, weighing her words, but there is no further virtue in diplomacy. “But for the destruction of Minot, her mission would have succeeded, and we would not presently be facing a second attack.”

For the first time since entering the room, Kirsten smiles, a slight lift of the corners of her mouth. It takes Koda between one breath and the next and almost stops her heart. She can count on one hand—maybe one finger—the times she has seen that expression on the other woman’s face.

”Not quite alone.” Gently Kirsten ruffles Asi’s ears. “Can you understand droid-to-droid transmissions, General?” When he does not answer, she says, “I can. We can’t afford for me not to go.”

There is a an uncomfortable silence. “I am going,” Kirsten repeats. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Oh, ma’am, you certainly do,” Manny says on an outrush of breath that is not quite laughter. “No offense, but God missed the target when you weren’t born a Lakota.”

*

A blast of static comes across Dakota’s earpiece. “…Tshunka…20…come back?”

She taps the earpiece, wincing as it lets off another, louder, blast of static. “Tacoma, is that you?”

“Han…your 20? GPS…fucked …can’t…you.”

Koda looks down at her own unit, frowning as snow and wavery lines cross through the normally steady display. She cocks a look to Manny, who shakes his head.

“Maybe the metalheads are screwing with the signal?” he asks.

“Doubtful,” Kirsten responds. “They might have advanced technologies, but even they need to rely on the GPS to fix a firm position. Most likely, the problem is with the satellites themselves. With no one around to monitor them, their orbits are starting to decay. Pretty soon these units will make attractive paperweights for all the good they’ll be.”

“Cheery thought,” Manny mutters half under his breath.

Another blast of static makes its way into Dakota’s brain. “…Tshunka…20….”

“Keep your pants on, thiblo. We’re working on it.”

Slipping the communications piece from her ear, Koda looks around, trying to manually triangulate their position by known landmarks. Darkness, and the fact that they’ve traveled several miles in that dark, most of them on foot---actually by snowshoe (and trying to teach Kirsten, a city girl at heart with an aversion to snow and anything associated with it, how to snowshoe is a story in and of itself), makes this a difficult task at best.

“Tell him that we’re halfway between the big rock and the tree that looks like the Hunchback of Notre Dame, two steps off the nearest cow path.”

Feeling her jaw drop, Koda slowly turns her head until Kirsten’s stone, black streaked, face is perfectly in her sites.

Manny, just as shocked, voices what Koda cannot. “Did…did you just crack a joke? Ma’am?”

Green eyes blaze from blackface, and Manny gulps. Hard.

“Didn’t think so, Ma’am.”

Koda clamps her jaw shut and settles for shaking her head. She scans the area ahead and, once she has their position firmly in her mind, slips the communications piece back in her ear and, through the static, relays that position in Lakota to her brother.

Satisfied with her response, Tacoma cuts communication and the world around Dakota falls back into blessed quiet. In the silence, she notices Kirsten staring blankly into the distance, her expression intent. Closing the distance between them, Dakota stops just outside the other woman’s body-space and waits patiently.

Sensing Dakota’s presence, Kirsten blinks, draws back into herself, and gives the tall woman a questioning look.

“Hear anything?”

“Garbled,” Kirsten replies, slipping the bud from her ear. “They’re definitely headed this way, though.” She looks around, then back at Koda. “It would make sense, if they’ve got humans with them, to take a main road, even if it hasn’t been plowed. Are there any of those near here?”

“About ten paces directly ahead. A main highway.”

“That close, huh?”

Koda grins, a flash of pure white against the black greasepaint on her face. “We’ll be long gone before they get within sniffing distance.”

As Kirsten nods her understanding and replaces her earbud, Koda sobers. She opens her mouth as if to speak, then closes it, unable or unwilling to risk this new bit of warmth between them.

Kirsten notices. “What is it?”

Koda takes in a deep breath, considering her words. “I believe…in being prepared. I know this is just a recon mission, but something unexpected could happen, and if it does….”

Kirsten bristles. “I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of handling….”

“It’s not that,” Koda replies, holding her hand up. “It’s….” Pausing, she fights for words again. “Look, if we need to shoot up some of those drones, and you’re tapped into one of them at the time, I don’t think Manny and I can keep you alive long enough for the others to get here and get us back to base.”

A smile comes unbidden to Kirsten’s lips. She feels a wash of tenderness so foreign to her that for a moment, she’s taken aback by the strength of that simple, undeniably powerful emotion. “I’ll be okay,” she assures softly, reaching out one gloved hand to touch, only briefly, Koda’s strong wrist. “The problem’s been corrected. I won’t be getting caught in any more self destruct feedback loops. I promise.”

Koda looks deep into Kirsten’s eyes, twin sparks of high color among the monochrome of lampblack and full moon. Her memories guide her spirit to the beat of the drums, to the pulse of the ether, the brightness of the Star-that-has-no-Name, and the ever-present pull of the seductive wind.

“The time is not yet,” she whispers.

Kirsten freezes, a living statue in a land humanity has forsworn. “What?”

The soft voice shakes her from her memories. “Nothing. It was….”

The words on the tip of Kirsten’s tongue dry out as several streams of data pour into her implants. She cocks her head, still looking at Dakota. “They’re headed this way. Ten armored military droids, twenty two regulars, almost fifty humans traveling on foot…or treads…or…whatever. They’re picking up more as they move along. They’re broadcasting everywhere. I can hear chatter from at least seven more groups nearby.”

“This isn’t good,” Manny mutters, his eyes darting, trying to look everywhere at once.

“Strengths?” Koda asks, tightening her grip on her weapon.

“Don’t know yet. They’re definitely heading for the base, though.”

“And the humans. Coerced or voluntary?”

“I don’t know that yet either,” Kirsten bites off, shaking her head. “No real mention of them in the routine communications I’m picking up.”

Manny steps forward. “As much as I don’t believe I’m saying this, Koda, I think we should treat them like unfriendlies no matter what their circumstances.”

Kirsten gazes over at him, shocked. “Is that what they’re teaching you in the military these days?”

“No, Ma’am,” Manny replies, spine so straight it crackles. “Exactly the opposite, in fact. But right now, I don’t think we can afford to take any chances. Ma’am.”

Dismissing him with a look, Kirsten concentrates on the chatter coming over her implants. Koda flips on her com unit and quietly relays Kirsten’s reports to Tacoma in Lakota. When she’s done, she looks back to Kirsten. “Any more info?”