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Chapter Forty

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We had both eaten dinner earlier at the inn, so there was no need to be in my kitchen, but Zia was determined to prepare meals out of the thin’s she’d set out to defrost the previous evenin’.

I didn’t know how long I’d be gone, so told her she’d be eatin’ on it alone maybe for a time. She accepted my spare key. A spot behind my kidneys had tingled, across my shoulders too, as she took it. She seemed excited to make my little place hers while I was off doin’ for Ike.

I enjoyed the time with her in the kitchen. I maybe held up my end of the conversation even. It’s gettin’ easier. But around midnight I sent her to bed. I needed to read the material Ike had sent me. Needed some time to think. A couple winks would help too.

The profiles, actually more the analytical summaries, gave me a pretty good idea of the folk I was up against. All right-wing hawks. Arrogant to the core. The meetin’, whatever negotiation was gonna go on, wouldn’t be as easy as the one on the South Plain.

These weren’t folk followin’ ignert orders, but the ones drivin’ the stupidity. Much easier to divide and blame than to work toward a common goal, an accomplishment. There’s no one more frustratin’ to battle than a fool with a stupid idea.

I don’t think I ever got any of those winks before I heard Zia in her bathroom. I may have lay awake worryin’. As though my heart understood somethin’ my head never would. I’ve never considered myself much of a worrier. I’m not smart with people, but I make up for it with the confidence that my technology is superior.

But I wouldn’t be debatin’ technology today. There’s no way to prepare for prejudice and hatred. And no leveragin’ the ogre growl in my chest. Coppin’ an attitude was more than likely to get me and Jam killed, along with the interpreter Ike sent with me.

Before I got downstairs, Zia had prepared a dandy breakfast for us. First time in my life I had to force food down my gullet. Confusion over my emotions almost kept me from enjoyin’ my time with Zia before she had to head for the inn. Worst part, I figgered she knew I was worried. Frightened might be a better word. I sensed I had more to live for than I ever had in my life, and it was gonna tick me off if some human wanted to take me away from Zia.

We shared a dandy kiss at my stoop—it’s so cute how she has to lean over for me—and I watched her trudgin’ east on a pair of my snowshoes until she was out of sight. I harrumphed, and said a few unkind thin’s about Ike. Wasn’t fair. When had I ever shown interest in the affairs of the Range or Hamlet, much less the goin’s on of the entire continent?

Maybe it’s time. Maybe the ethereal pushed me here because of my effort savin’ my beautiful oak.

Probably not. Figger the ethereal doesn’t get involved in our world. It’s said the gods only look down on us with love, but will never interfere.

But wasn’t there someone better qualified? Ike has no silk tongue, but he can explain what makes sense really well.

A couple minutes of nine I sat in the mudroom strappin’ on my own snowshoes when I heard the horrendous din movin’ through the north hollers toward the Hamlet. These military types are punctual. I locked up and headed for the shore, peerin’ through the misty fallin’ snow, wonderin’ who already stood down the way.

“Oh no.” I was repeatin’ fifty feet before I reached her, “No. No. No.”

Nuel turned and faced me, wearin’ a face that was none too happy either. I would’ve told her to get lost, I’d manage without her, but by that time the stinkin’ helicopter ended any chance of an unfriendly chat. All we could do was work to protect our faces from the snow and ice the rotors flung at us in a deadly maelstrom.

Jeez, trudgin’ over the snow bank to the helo was a pain in the ogre butt.

Headsets on, couldn’t very well tell her to get lost now. From our tiny jump seats the size of postage stamps we shared good mornin’s with the ogre pilot and copilot.

They gave us thumbs up. One explained our leg would take a hundred seventy-three minutes—seemed awfully exact, didn’t expect this thin’ to manage that speed—that we were settin’ down in the burbs; that we’d be escorted into the city from there by their people, and he suggested we sit back and relax.

Relax. Relax? Felt like we sat in a blender. An overly loud, overly vibratin’ blender with ratty bearin’s.

“Ya learn anythin’ useful from those profiles?” Nuel asked.

Wasn’t somethin’ I could ignore her for, when maybe she could share a non-autistic view. “None to zilch,” I said. “Saw ya were copied. Any thoughts?”

I could read her mind, what, ya’re askin’ a humble hen’s opinion? Instead she said, “I really hope ya get some inspiration. And no. I have no idea why Ike thought we’d make a good pair. Nor why I accepted his request to come along. I think I’m as stupid as ya’re.”

Not sure, but I don’t think I asked any of those latter things.

Her laugh didn’t come ’cross well through the headset. Sounded more like she vomited. I suggested that I assumed she had a dandy speech lined up, so I wouldn’t even have to say a word.

She glanced my way. “I’m happy to keep my trap shut, except to translate for ya. But I’m just as happy to mis-translate if I think ya’re gonna get us killed.”

I thought about that. Even if I told her not to, she would anyway. “I expect no matter what I say ya will figger I’m out to get us killed.”

She nodded.

“So why don’t we just stay on script.” A suggestion I knew she wouldn’t follow. But if she did, our deaths would be completely on my shoulders.

After our conversation lulled for five minutes, she pulled a tablet out of her vest and began readin’. I spied what I could. Think it was a novel. Assumed it some henish romance.

If the noise of the stinkin’ helicopter, even with the headsets, wasn’t mind bendin’, I’d try to get some work done. But while I have a tendency to focus tightly, not so much in an uncomfortable settin’. And this was about as uncomfortable as they come.

Forty minutes later we passed over our Plain hamlet. For too long, there was nothin’ but the gold grass wavin’ below. My heart picked up its pace as I saw various urban centers draw closer as our pilot reduced our elevation. Why didn’t we just take the council jet straight into the city? I shouldn’t have left the logistics up to Piez. He’s a bit one dimensional.

No doubt he wanted as many people as possible to see his mighty toy, with its mini-gun hangin’ out. Whatever a mini-gun is. I think the rockets out on the side looked pretty terrifyin’.

The fallow field we headed for was encircled by vehicles with red and blue lights flickerin’. About two hundred, or a few less than that.

We sat in the helo until the rotor-thin’s were just goin’ flip, flip. When we exited, a couple of limos neared. I shook my head, pulled my phone out, and opened my Ride Share app. A troll vehicle was two minutes away, so I selected it. Nuel was nosey nosin’ so I pointed the face to her. She turned a bit red.

“Doncha think that will be a bit insultin’?”

“What’s insultin’ is they think it’s okay to transport us in a little human car.” I strode left, for the highway.

Confused-lookin’ folk ran toward me. I ignored ’em. Knew these weren’t the guys I had to play political footsie with. They’d be sittin’ in a comfy conference room at the hospital sippin’ cocktails.

I could hear Nuel doin’ the explainin’. That they didn’t understand the insult of not accommodatin’ us set my chest-box vibratin’. Not a good way to start.

Probably on purpose. Most assuredly.

~

Nuel

~

I woke and rushed to the bathroom to throw up. After heavin’ everythin’ up that I nibbled on last night and every bit of moisture in my body, I wiped my mouth and grabbed my phone to tell Ike there was no way I was goin’ with Kriz.

I’d already been shot once. Arm still in a sling. If I’d been a better statistics student, I could probably figger how likely my death is on this journey.

I cried with the phone pressed against my forehead. I pounded a little, hopin’ the pain would take my mind off my pendin’ doom. Real diplomats aren’t accomplishin’ anythin’ and Ike’s sendin’ a single-minded autistic fool to set thin’s in the right direction?

If I live through this, I’m done with OW, Ike, Kriz, Darshee, and Wizper. Especially Ike. And Kriz. I’d find a not-so-challengin’ codin’ position, live in the Northern suburbs, and keep my head down. My stomach threatened to empty again, though there couldn’t be anythin’ in it.

I stood and rinsed my mouth and face until the sensation passed. The water out of the tap was about three-hundred degrees below freezin’, which helped. I jerked at the knock at my door. Lordy. It wasn’t even seven yet. I checked the peephole, and worked at a smile which I don’t think formed.

Ezra handed me a steamin’ mug. “Tea,” she explained. “I figgered as witless as ya looked last night, ya’d need somethin’ to settle yar stomach this mornin’. It’s mint tea.”

Ick. I took a tentative sip anyway. It was as bad as it sounded. I invited her in, but she said she had carcasses to baste. I need to learn about bastin’ carcasses. Anythin’ other than playin’ ambassador for the idjit Ike. Or translator for the idjit Kriz.

An hour later downstairs I was able to get down a buttery biscuit one crumb at a time, and finally finished the mug of mint tea. Still tasted horrible, like dirty feet, but at least I hadn’t heaved again. Hands still shook though.

I’ve embraced new thin’s before. Why am I so scared, now? Gettin’ shot once, might have somethin’ to do with it.

There was no doin’ anythin’ worthwhile as I waited for my time on the planet to run out, so I found a stupid romance novel to download. It might help if I could mentally ridicule some other stupid hen who made horrible choices in the opposite sex. Somethin’ vapid was all my mind could endure for the moment.

Ezra strode up to me ten of nine and pointed at her wrist, which is a bit ironic, since she doesn’t wear a watch. She grabbed a pair of snowshoes behind the main desk and shoved ’em at me. Like I know what to do with ’em.

“I’ll get a youngling to help ya,” she said with a smile.

A tiny orc bull strapped me in ten seconds later.

Oh lordy did they make noise the few steps to the main entrance, ’cross the ancient timber floor. Over the veranda I pretty much thought I should practice my quack, quack.

The stairs were a nightmare, but once I got goin’ from there I kind of liked it. I could see trail hikin’ in the snow in my future. If I ever got the chance, if I survived today, I’d ask Ike to show me the ropes. Oh. I’m quittin’ on him, pretty sure. If I don’t kill him.

I got to the shore ’cross from where Ezra said the helicopter would settle, and fear struck me, again. The tree canopy was only thirty feet away and the ground sloped hard toward the Lake. How was that enormous monstrosity gonna be held up by the ice? Oh, gods, it would sink and everyone inside would drown a horrible death.

I still shook with that fear when Kriz showed up. His lips flapped, an unusual occurrence, maybe givin’ me positive affirmations, not that I could hear him for the din, but he pushed me toward the helicopter’s hatch-thin’, unfastened my snowshoes for me, and left me to figger out how to crawl into it one handed.

I’m not embarrassed to admit the next couple hours or so flashed by with visions of my earlier days, past experiences. They say yar life passes before yar eyes.

Can’t say much else about the time as I sat in that outrageously uncomfortable seat, which covered about a tenth of my butt. But the drama started early when we landed.

I know human cars are tiny, but why was it beneath Kriz to manage one short ride in one? We managed the stupid jump seats in the helicopter.