Chapter 38

I called a meeting the next morning, inviting Ozmat and the other surviving youth to attend. We had things to speak about and I figured the two young men needed to attend, if only so they felt included in our discussions and would know that we weren’t just bullying their people. The second youth’s name was Nolgar. We met outside in the courtyard about a blazing fire.

“We’ll be staying here for a few days,” I told everyone who was gathered there with me. “I’ve spoken to Clara and Alexa and they both say that Ozmat’s people need rest and nourishment if they are going to get better. I agreed with them.”

“It’ll mean that we’ll need to do some hunting,” Tonko interjected when I paused and glanced about the gathering. “Even with the extra supplies we brought with us to share with these people, they’ll get used up quickly without fresh meat available to supplement it,” he added.

“You’re right,” I acknowledged freely, smiling warmly at the young man. “The way I see it, we’re going to have to send out a couple of hunting parties every day, until we’re finally ready to leave. You can organize them, Tonko.”

“I will,” Tonko responded with a broad grin, puffing up with pride in response to the unspoken compliment I’d given him. I smiled back in return and then I gave him a little more direction before I dropped the topic altogether.

“Make certain you speak to Dunbar before any hunting party goes out,” I told him pointedly, “and make certain that the hunting party consists of men trained with rifles as well as bows, just in case the rifles are needed.”

“Are you expecting trouble?” Bogdi asked from where he stood between Dunbar and Burton, translating for them what I was saying to the others. Ohba was doing the same for Ozmat and Nolgar.

“Yes and no,” I replied ambiguously. “I’ve spoken with our two prisoners about what kind of response we might expect from the bad men once they figure out that the flying machine isn’t coming back. Both women suggested that it might take a week or more before their leader does something, but they both also suggest that if he does do something, it will be to send another flying machine with more men and more weapons that kill from a distance. I want our people to be ready for anything, just in case it happens while we’re still here.”

“What if we do stay here and ambush them?” Dunbar spoke up in English once Bogdi had translated what I had said. “It would take out a threat before it had a chance to strike at your settlement. You know that’s what they’ll do, if and when they show up here and they find this place empty and the Chinook looking the way it is. They’ll start looking for you and when they get to your valley and they find your settlement, they’ll probably fly in armed to the teeth and ready to blow you away.”

“I know,” I replied in English, before switching back to common so I could explain what Dunbar had said, and what my thoughts were on that, “and I agree with you. Personally, I’d like to do exactly that; ambush the bastards before they get a chance to hit us. Unfortunately, we don’t know when a search party might arrive here, and more importantly, besides a few 40-mm grenades and two .50-cal sniper rifles, we really don’t have the fire power to go toe-to-toe with a Puma helicopter armed for bear.”

“Which is why an ambush is our only option,” Dunbar insisted, once Bogdi had translated my words again.

“We can talk about it later,” I promised the man, sticking to the common tongue as I replied. “However, for now, I want people to be careful and I want sentries posted at all times, just in case the bad guys do pay us a visit before we expect them to.”

“Did the pilot get a message off yesterday before you shot him?” Burton asked out of curiosity.

“According to Lottie, there are a couple of small mountains in between us and Winslow’s base,” I answered the man, “so communications from the ground is nearly impossible without a repeater station on top of those mountains, which they don’t have. Lottie left me with the impression that the pilot’s intent was to get in the air high enough to report, which as we all know, didn’t happen. I’m just hoping that she’s telling the truth.”

“I can ask her again this morning,” Burton suggested grinning as he did. “I could get a little rough.”

“You could, but I promised her that no one would hurt her so long as she cooperated,” I sighed in reply. “You can talk to both women, and lie your head off about what each other is saying about the other, but don’t hurt either of them unless you’re certain that they’re not keeping up their side of the deal.”

We moved on to other matters after that. Besides needing to send out hunting parties for fresh meat, we also needed people out gathering firewood for the hearth the River People had built in the centre of the compound’s courtyard. We actually needed that fire for cooking. We’d stripped the kitchen container when we’d left the last time we were here, taking everything of use and leaving behind the stove and oven in the command post as the only functional unit. It was too small to support the cooking needs of everyone here, especially with needing to feed the sick. I put Gort in charge of that, telling him to employ a few of the ex-River People men.

Finally, we spoke about dealing with the dead. My people had dragged off the bodies of the men we’d killed yesterday, dumping their corpses into the woods to the southwest; leaving them as carrion for any scavengers that came along, however those bodies weren’t the only ones that needed dealing with. We had the bodies of Osgar and his men to dispose off, one of whom was Ozmat’s father, plus a dozen more bodies that we’d found yesterday once Clara started gathering the sick together. People had died over the last couple of days of either their fevers or starvation, and the River People hadn’t had the strength to deal with them. It was now up to me to see that they were properly prepared to go to the afterlife and to bury them. Wodon would help me out.

I was actually at a quandary as to what to do. Ohba over breakfast had explained some of the River People’s burial customs. Cremation was the usual manner in which most of the River People bands dealt with their dead. They’d cremate the body of the deceased, sometimes with symbolic objects representative of the individual’s life on Earth like a toy hunting spear or fishing net. They’d then split the ashes into two portions. I’d learned that the River People were familiar with pottery making and that each band kept a large communal urn in which half the ashes were placed and then mixed in with the ashes already there, thus ensuring that the strength of the deceased was retained by the community. The other half was then ceremonially disposed of in the river, returning the other half of the individual to the spirits of the river that gave the community life. While I had no problem with the tradition, I had fifteen bodies to dispose of, no urn to put the ashes in, and building a pyre large enough to cremate that many bodies at once was impossible. I needed an alternative.

“Perhaps you could store the bodies until summer,” Wodon suggested when I spoke to him about the issue. “I know that the length of time is great, but it is your only real solution, unless Ozmat agrees to simply let you bury his people. Have you spoken to him yet?”

I hadn’t. Ozmat was a fourteen old boy currently out of his element and barely hanging on to his ability to cope, having gone through what had to have been the worst experiences in his young life. I remembered how dazed Sygor had been when I first spoke to him. Sygor had recovered quickly, his recovery fuelled by rage at what had been done to his village and the promise of revenge, but then again Sygor hadn’t been thrust into a leadership role. I’d taken that away from him before Sygor had even had the chance to contemplate what he and his fellow victims of O’Quinn would do with their lives. Ozmat on the other hand had been forced to stand up and declare himself as leader and having done it, I’d tried to treat him that way, up to a point. Even so, Wodon was right. I needed to speak to the youth.

I took Ozmat for a walk after the meeting. We strolled down to the river. It wasn’t that far away from the compound and the snow wasn’t as deep in that area. Once there I presented the young man with my problem.

“You know why we are standing here, don’t you, Ozmat?” I asked the young man as we both stood at the edge of the river staring out at its steel-grey waters.

“Yes,” the young man whispered in reply a second later, not taking his eyes off the flowing water of the river. “We’re here to speak about the dead.”

“Yes, we are,” I confirmed with a deep sigh. “I want you to understand something, Ozmat. I may be the chief of the Bear Tribe, but I am also the shaman of that tribe. For this conversation I speak to you as the shaman and not the chief. Can you understand what I am saying?”

“Yes,” Ozmat replied in a soft voice, still not glancing at me.

“The Earth Mother calls the dead to her, whether there is snow on the ground or the fields are filled with tall grass,” I informed Ozmat, trying to keep my voice sincere and solemn. “I’ve spoken to the young men of the other tribe; the one that has already joined the Bear Tribe, and they have told me your ways of honouring the dead. I find your people’s customs good, for they show respect for both the dead and for the Earth Mother and the spirits that your people honoured. Regrettably, while I wish I could perform your customs, I cannot. We need to find another way to send your people on their way.”

“Why?” Ozmat asked with a hint of distress in his voice.

“Because we have fifteen bodies that we must send to the Earth Mother,” I told the youth pointedly, “and unless I level a forest first, there is not enough fire wood to do this job properly; at least not now in the dead of winter. We need to find another solution to this problem.”

“Oh,” Ozmat muttered in surprise, sounding as if he was dazed by what I was telling him. “What can we do?”

It was clear that Ozmat wasn’t completely with me as far as the conversation was going. I felt sorry for the youth. Accepting this I made a few suggestions. In the end the youth left the matter up to me.

For the time being I ordered the bodies to be laid out in the shower unit container. The showers didn’t work anymore, as the unit had been stripped of most of its plumbing when we left the first time we were here. The container was basically a huge icebox now and it could be used as a temporary morgue until I’d come up with a more permanent solution to what to do with the bodies. Once they’d been taken care of, I went off and chatted to Lottie again. She wasn’t happy to see me.

“Your man is a flaming asshole,” Lottie snapped as Burton escorted her in to see me. “I thought you promised me that I wouldn’t be tortured.”

“Did you torture Lottie?” I asked Burton, looking at him in a questioning manner.

“I didn’t lay a finger on her,” Burton said with an incredulous look upon his face. “Scout’s honour!”

“He sat me half naked in the back of the Chinook, while he interrogated me,” Lottie spat back indignantly. “I froze my ass off, just so this bastard could pretend to be a big man. Well it didn’t work and if that’s the way you want to play things, you’ll not get another word out of me.”

“Is that so?” I asked pointedly, looking at the woman coldly. “Are you really telling me that you’re going to refuse to cooperate with me from now on? If that’s true, then I don’t need to speak to you again. In fact, I don’t need you alive anymore. Perhaps I should just shoot you right now.”

As I spoke I pulled out my service pistol and I flicked the safety off. Lottie’s eyes went wide when I levelled the weapon and I aimed it at her, pointing the weapon right between her eyes.

“Please don’t,” Lottie cried out in protest. “I’ll cooperate. I’ll do anything you say and I won’t complain ever again. Just please don’t kill me.”

“Did you learn anything of any value from this bitch,” I growled over at Burton who was standing to the side watching the by-play between Lottie and me.

“No,” Burton muttered with disgust. “She complained about being cold and that what I was doing wasn’t fair, but beyond that she kept to her story of last night. As far as she’s concerned the pilot didn’t get off a radio message.”

“Do you believe her, or do I put a bullet between her eyes?” I asked keeping my voice cold and my gaze firmly locked onto Lottie.

“Please don’t kill me,” Lottie pleaded her voice trembling. “I promise I’ll cooperate.”

“Did the pilot get off a radio message,” I asked the woman bluntly, still pointing my pistol at her, aiming for between her eyes. “Sarah said he did.”

“Sarah’s lying,” Lottie sobbed out in desperation. “Please believe me, the pilot didn’t send a message.”

At that I put my weapon back on safe and I holstered it. I looked at the woman for a moment. Tears streaked her cheeks and her eyes were red.

“Sarah didn’t tell us anything,” I told the woman as I turned to the stove to pour hot water that had just come to a boil into a tea pot. “We just made that up to see what you’d say. For now, I’m going to believe that you’re telling the truth and you really do want to cooperate with my people and me. The question now is how far I can trust you? You could be a great help to me, but then again, you could be nothing but trouble.”

“I won’t be any trouble, I promise you,” Lottie declared adamantly. “Just don’t hurt me.”

“What if I told you that you could walk out of here and go back to Quantum,” I said to the woman as I poured three mugs of tea, “would you go, if I provided you with everything you needed to survive the trek and I swore on my mother’s grave that no one would stop you or prevent you from going?”

“You’d really let me go?” Lottie asked after a moment’s consideration, her voice filled with doubt.

“I would,” I told the woman, handing her a mug of tea. It was herbal; something that my people picked and blended, but it tasted good, particularly hot on a cold day like today. “Now we’re talking about you walking out. It would probably take you a month or more to get back, but you could do it, with a little determination. So what do you say?”

Lottie bit her lower lip and then after a moment sucking on it, she stopped and she brought the mug of tea that I’d provided her to her lips. She took a tentative sip. A second later Lottie smiled and then took another sip.

“This isn’t bad,” Lottie muttered in an appreciative manner as she put the mug down on the top of the fold down table. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you like it,” I responded in a hospitable manner. “The women of my tribe make it. I find it to be very refreshing, especially in the winter. However, I’d like an answer to my question. If I made you that offer; would you stay or would you go?”

“What would happen if I stayed?” Lottie asked her voice becoming serious. “What would you expect of me?”

“Until Quantum has been dealt with, once and for all, I can never really trust you,” I told the woman in all honesty. “I can tell you that we’ve got a pretty good life here beyond the Gateway. We definitely have to work at things if we want something that doesn’t exist right now, but overall my people can’t complain. We’ve got food, shelter, clothing, warmth, family, and friends. My tribe lives by one dominant rule and that is, everyone works and everyone eats. It applies to everyone including me. If you decided to stay, you’d be watched around the clock and you’d be expected to do jobs, some of which you’re probably uniquely qualified to perform and others that you’ve probably have never done before, like working a skin to turn it into leather or buckskin. What do you think? Is it something you could live with?”

“The unique jobs would be flying the helicopter wherever you wanted it to go?” Lottie enquired in all seriousness. “Right?”

“You’re correct,” I told the woman without hesitating. “I’ll want you to fly the helicopter. When you do, I’ll be sitting right next to you telling you in what direction you need to fly. If you don’t fly where I want you to fly, I’ll shoot you right then and there, and then hope I can land the copter myself without killing myself and whoever else is along for the ride.”

“You could die,” Lottie pointed out, her voice quivering as she said it.

“I could, but you definitely would, if you ever betrayed me,” I told her bluntly. “Now what will it be? Will you walk back to Quantum or will you join my group and cooperate? It’s time for you to decide.”

Lottie took another sip of her tea. She looked at Burton for a moment and then back over towards me.

“Will you be using me as a sex slave?” Lottie asked bluntly, taking me by surprise.

“No,” I responded firmly and honestly. “I don’t expect sex from you nor will I ever make you have sex with someone you don’t want to have a relationship with. Why, does Winslow make you prostitute yourself?”

Lottie blushed red at my question and then she looked away. Instead of answering she took another sip of tea. Finally, when she put her mug back down on the table, she declared that she would stay. An hour after that, Sarah did the same.

“I could have her fly you and the sick back to the settlement,” I informed Clara later in the day.

We were both standing in the kitchen of the command post container. Clara had just woken up from a nap. She’d showered and she’d changed her clothing and now she was eating some food that I’d made for her, and drinking some of our precious coffee that we’d brought with us for occasions just like this conversation.

“Do you trust the woman?” Clara asked. “She could turn about and head back to Quantum once she was up in the air.”

“She could, but she won’t,” I told her, trying to sound confident and reassuring at the same time. “I’ll be sending Dunbar with you. He’ll sit up front with her to keep an eye on her. If she turns the copter in any direction other than towards our settlement, he’ll have orders to shoot her.”

“Then we’ll crash and die,” Clara gasped with a look of horror suddenly appearing on her face. “Are you crazy?”

I laughed and then I shook my head.

“No, I’m not crazy,” I reassured Clara. “I’m going to have Lottie walk Dunbar through landing the helicopter before she even gets to take it off the ground. Hopefully, if he does have to shoot the woman, he’ll be able to land it without killing everyone in it.”

“That’s a pretty big hope you have there,” Clara stated with a look of wide-eyed disbelief etched onto her face.

“The copter won’t be flying that far,” I told Clara, in another attempt to reassure her. “Dunbar will have the pilot keep the copter low; roughly a hundred feet above treetops all the way back to our valley. If the copter does go down, with luck Dunbar will put it down in a clear area.”

“Damn I wish Gabby was here to fly that blasted thing,” Clara muttered under her breath in response to my reassurances. “Are you certain we can’t go back on foot with you when you’re ready to pull out of here?”

“No, you can’t go out on foot,” I told Clara bluntly. “We’ve been here already too long as far as I’m concerned. Training Dunbar might take another day, which will give us time to strip a little more equipment out of here that can go along with you on the helicopter. Unfortunately, you know I’m going to have to stay here for at least another week, just to see if Winslow does send another helicopter after the missing Chinook.”

Clara knew this; she knew exactly what my plans were, but she didn’t like them. She thought I was taking a very serious risk. However, even she had to agree that I really didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

“I don’t like the idea of you playing games with Quantum, out here in the cold of winter,” Clara stated firmly, but without much conviction. “I just wish they’d leave us alone.”

“I do too,” I told her, “but so long as Winslow thinks he can win, both here and back on our own Earth, then the bastard and his minions will keep looking for us, and to be more precise, for Gabby. I have to stop these bastards whenever I get the chance, if only to keep her safe.”

“I’d like to kick Ridgeway in the ass for setting Gabby up that way,” Clara declared sharply, resentment for the man clearly in her voice.

“You know that Ridgeway didn’t come up with the story that Kim told us,” I responded defensively. “He only followed the instructions sent to him.”

“Well, just following orders doesn’t fly with me,” Clara growled back at me. “He could have fed Winslow a different story and have still gotten the same result.”

“Maybe, and maybe not,” I told her, sighing loudly and shrugging my shoulders at the same time. “You know that anything could have happened if Ridgeway hadn’t stuck to the script.”