Chapter 19

A week later:

Veronyka and John pulled into the dirt beside the Fort Laird airport. The entire town of Fort Liard covered about three square blocks, off the number 7 highway, which the locals also called Liard. It sat at the junction between the wider Laird River, and the smaller Petitot. The only gas station in the entire place was out where the partially paved road intersected Liard Hwy. The airport itself covered the southeast side of town, and boasted a whole two hangars, with a few other, miscellaneous buildings.

The previous week had been alternately boring as hell as they traversed the entire country, and annoying as they searched for a way up into the Nahanni National Park Reserve. The closest road to where they wanted to go crossed two rivers before ending at the town called Nahanni Butte. Unfortunately, their luxury car, while fantastic for cruising the interstate highway system in the U.S. was worthless for navigating the back roads of western Canada. So, they were stopping here in Fort Laird, hoping to find a pilot willing to fly them to Nahanni Butte. Of course, from that town it was still another one hundred and fifty miles to the coordinates Veronyka possessed.

One hundred and fifty miles over the roughest, most forbidding terrain in North America. At the speed John could walk, they were likely to die of starvation or exposure long before getting there. They’d made a Walmart stop in Toronto, stocking up on durable outdoor clothing and backpacks which they filled with sleeping bags, a tent and food. Lots of food. Still, they needed another solution, preferably one that didn’t require them to march across the northern end of the Rockies. One of the employees at the Liard Fuel Centre suggested they talk to Ollie at North Cariboo Air, which was now their destination.

The building front wasn’t exactly welcoming when they walked up, but the door opened into what could charitably be called an office. A lone middle-aged man, with thinning gray hair and a walrus mustache was talking on an old-style land-line phone when they entered. He held up a finger when he saw them, but his eyes widened on the second look he shot Veronyka. Even in a winter parka, snow pants and boots, she attracted attention.

“Give him a smile and get his interest.” John said through his teeth just loud enough for her to hear.

“Uh, ya, let me call ya back.” The man said abruptly, hanging up.

“What can aye do fer ya?” He asked Veronyka.

She skipped over and perched on his desk corner.

“Well, we’re wanting to go up to the Nahanni National Park and hike for a couple days. But the part we want to get to is pretty far away. Can you help us?” She chirped.

Even John wanted to get her whatever she asked for. Ollie, as the man introduced himself, was defenseless against her charms.

“Can ya show meh just where it is that ya wanna go?” He asked, barely glancing at John.

The man escorted her over to a wall-mounted aviation map, made up of several sectionals taped together and covered with plexiglass. It was quite possibly the most professional thing in the entire building. Veronyka rattled off the coordinates, and the man ran back to get a ruler and grease pencil. He had her repeat the digits more slowly and gradually zeroed in on the place she was referring to.

Good thing this guy’s old enough to remember how to use a map. A kid would’ve been lost without a phone or computer. John said to himself.

What is ‘a phone or computer’? The Tooth’s voice asked.

John nearly fell over.

Tooth, is that you?

Who else would it be? Snarky voice, check.

Speaking in accented Norse, check.

Uh, where are you? John tried.

I don’t really know. You stepped into the arch, and the rest of the world went away. You talked to this voice briefly, then went still. I can still hear your thoughts when you say them in your head, even if I didn’t understand what you’re saying. It took me a while to get the hang of your other language. I can’t really tell what you’re doing, but sometimes you picture something so well, even I can see it.

John held the picture of Veronyka and Ollie talking in his mind for a second.

Yes, like that. What are you attempting to do?

I’m hoping we can get this guy to fly us where we want to go.

The Tooth sounded very confused. This man can fly?

No, but he has a ... special sleigh that does.

He is that powerful? He does not act like it.

John nearly laughed out loud. No, he isn’t powerful at all.

Then how can he have such a wonderful thing.

Lots of people have them. Lots and lots, here in my world. John tried to explain.

Why do you come to my world then? She was puzzled now. Curious.

John pictured himself naked, with his prosthetics gone. Because I look like this.

I was never very good with women. But I do not think this woman finds you distasteful.

Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean she finds me attractive, either.

Ollie was telling Veronyka that he could easily charter a flight to Nahanni Butte, and would see if a pilot he knew was still flying out of the water aerodrome there.

“Just let meh make some phone calls.” He said, dialing.

The result of Ollie’s efforts was that he would fly them up to Nahanni Butte the next morning, it being too late in the day for the flight at this point. His pilot friend, Brandon was willing to fly them where they wanted to go the following day.

“That’s great, thank you!” Veronyka gushed.

“Aye recommend ya get a room at the motel. We’ll leave at ten.” He told them.

“Can you tell us where that is?” She asked him.

“Go back out ta the highway, ‘tis right there by the fuel center.” He said.

“Thanks again, you’re the best!” Veronyka smiled.

She brushed his arm before they walked out.

“Let’s go get a room, dear.” She said loudly, waving at the window.

“The Tooth can talk to me here on Earth.” John said casually as they pulled out.

Veronyka jammed the brakes.

“What?” She screeched. “How?”

John shrugged. “No idea. She’s been figuring out our language for the last week I guess. Maybe longer since she could hear when I sent messages to you, well to Spooky or Melvin.”

“Holy shit!” She shook her head.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” He grinned. “I just hope I’m not going crazy!”

“Not as far as I can tell.” She assured him when they pulled back into the fuel center lot.

The Liard Valley Motel was an unmarked building off to one side, facing the fuel pumps and store. It boasted ten rooms, three of which were occupied at the moment. The woman at the front desk kept sliding her eyes away from John as she jabbered at them. John inquired about network access, and was given a local login code to use. Once they were inside their room, John pulled out the Canadian phone they’d purchased, an ancient device made sometime around when the Celts were putting up Stonehenge. He logged into the motel signal, and typed a message into a website he found.

“What are you doing?” Veronyka asked, as she ran the shower to get the water warm.

“Figuring out how to encrypt the message I’m sending.” He said without looking up.

“Encrypt? What do you mean? Who are you sending it to?”

“Sergeant Major Ellis, of course.” He told her. “And I can’t very well call him at this point, or send him an electronic anything. They’ll already have a data tap on him. Luckily, that’s not his preferred method of getting in touch anyway.”

Veronyka laughed. “You got that right!”

She stripped, a show he desperately attempted to ignore, just like he had the last seven times she’d done it. She didn’t even bother to close the bathroom door, just shouted at him over the water noise.

“What’s the message? And how are you sending it?” She yelled.

“Can we finish this when you’re done? I’m trying to do this, and you’re distracting me.” He called back.

She laughed again, but stopped talking. If there was one thing he found attractive about Doctor Veronyka Krasnov, aside from her sultry beauty and brain the size of a planet, it was that she knew when to shut up. After their conversation outside the safe house, if he was doing something and needed silence, she gave it without complaint. It was the single overriding reason he hadn’t wanted to kill her after being cooped up in the car with her for a week straight.

He pulled out two post cards and a small glue bottle. On the back of one he put ‘Eli Jeffreys’ P.O. Box number, and his own return address, though with the name ‘Morgan Johnson’ over it. He scribbled a quick, ‘Saw a parade today, wish you were here!’ in the blank space. On the other, he carefully copied the encrypted text from his phone screen. He double, and triple checked it to be sure he’d gotten it correct. Then he carefully glued the two together, with his message inside. He matched the edges exactly, so the post card just felt slightly heavier than normal.

After he was finished, he tapped out a message to a number he knew would relay to Ellis.

C U Soon. Pancakes 4 Bfast

He was waiting for the glue to dry when Veronyka came back out.

“All done?” She looked over his shoulder.

Luckily, she leaned over his left, so he couldn’t really see her. He had a feeling she wasn’t wearing a towel, since he could hear her drying her hair with it.

“Yeah, just need to mail this when it’s dry.”

“What did you say?” She asked.

He showed her his phone screen, with the blocks of random letters. She gave him the universal female ‘look’ so he tapped a button on the site, and the decrypted message appeared:

Eli,

The doc and I are heading to 97°16’41.9” North, 48°37’21.5” West. If you can get to that location four days from now, with some good friends, we’d be obliged.

-Morg

“That’s not the coordinates we’re going to!” She pointed out.

“No, it’s not.” He agreed. “It’s adjusted by a known amount.”

“Known to who?” She shot back.

“Guys from my unit.” He winked.

She stepped back, but he kept his eyes on the post card.

“John.”

“Yes, Veronyka?” He rasped.

“Look at me.” She demanded.

Sighing, he turned around. She was standing with her fists on her hips, feet at shoulder-width. Her towel lay discarded on the bed. Every inch of her was utterly flawless, from her toes to the still-drying hair on her head. Tight and firm, long-limbs and pert breasts, there wasn’t a heterosexual male alive who wouldn’t kill to be with her. She stayed in place, allowing him to study her for as long as he wanted. When he finally met her eyes, she winked.

“Now,” she turned around, so he could see her back, “you’ve seen everything there is to see. Can you please stop pretending you don’t want to look? There’s no way I’m stripping down like this once we’re in the mountains.”

She faced him again. “Okay?”

He swallowed. “Uh, fine by me.”

“Good. What’s the known amount?” She pressed.

He chuckled. “You’ll have to do more than just get naked for that info!”

“John!” She whine-growled.

“Hey,” he held up his hands, “you could probably do the math yourself, but there’s nobody who hasn’t done at least a day operationally who knows the answer to that. Leave it alone, okay?”

“Fine!” She threw her hands up. “Goddam secret squirrel bullshit!”

She snatched up the towel and stormed back into the bathroom.

The temperature in the room that night was sub-arctic.

The next morning, they met Ollie at the Cariboo office slash hangar just before ten. They hefted their packs and trooped into the building. He pointed at their backpacks.

“That all yer taking?”

“That’s it.” Veronyka plastered a smile on her face. “Will we fit?”

“Sure thing!” The man bounced up. “Let meh show ya the plane!”

They followed him out to a small, single propeller engine plane. The wings were mounted above the cockpit, with two rows of two seats each. Ollie opened a panel to let them stow their packs in the fuselage.

“Aye jus gotta pre-flight, an we’ll get ya strapped in. Kay?” Ollie told them.

They waited while he walked around, and did his checks before escorting them to the door. Veronyka took one look inside, and silently pointed for John to take the back seat.

“I won’t have any elbows or knees left if I sit with you.” She told him icily.

Ignoring her tone, he conceded she was probably right. Ollie checked that he was comfortably situated before solicitously helping Veronyka into the front. He unchocked the wheels and took the seat beside her.

“Clear!” He shouted out the window after looking over both shoulders.

The prop spun up and he slammed his door shut. They let him concentrate during the taxi and takeoff. Then Veronyka started asking Ollie questions about landmarks and other terrain as they flew. The man happily told various stories about things he’d seen or heard. John’s microphone didn’t work anyway, so he spent the time silently using all the different ways his Sight could See. The forest, rivers and mountains were a lot more interesting here than the vast fields of tundra and snow in First World.

The hour flight flew right by, and before they knew it he was lining up to land at Nahanni Butte Airport. This one had even less infrastructure than the Fort Liard strip boasted. A small fuel tank on one side, and a dirt apron with a jacked-up, beat-up, snorkeled pickup truck waiting for them.

Ollie left the engine running as a brown-haired kid who looked sixteen ran up to the side. Ollie popped his door and shouted at the young man.

“Bags in the back!” He hooked a thumb.

John assumed it was Brandon helping them. He stole Veronyka’s headset, since her microphone did work, after she got out.

“Ollie.” He got the man’s attention.

“Yah?”

John slipped their car keys into Ollie’s shirt pocket.

“You can use our car while we’re gone. If my friend Jeff, or Eli show up, tell them it’s mine and help them come out this way, will you?”

“No worries!” Ollie replied. “Any of yer friends who show, I’ll give ‘em a hand.”

John met the pilot’s sunglasses with his eye. “Only Jeff or Eli, oh, or Herb. Anyone else, you never saw us, got it?”

The pilot shrugged. “Sure, never seen you ‘fore.”

With a last look, he climbed out after Veronyka, but tripped and sprawled into the dirt. With the prop-wash blowing a bitter wind, it felt like he was right underneath the blades. He crawled towards the tail for a few feet, then tried to stand. Veronyka offered a hand, which he took, and bashed his head into the downward-angled flap edge. Veronyka winced and mouthed, “Sorry!”

He rubbed his head and tried to calm down. He motioned for her to precede him around the tail to where Brandon had taken their packs. Ollie gave them a thumbs-up, and taxied back onto the dirt strip. John saw him check the wind sock, before gunning the engine to roar away.

“Welcome to Nahanni Butte ‘ey!” Brandon stuck his hand out. “I’m Brandon Hardisty.”

John curled his thumb and finger around Brandon’s forearm. “James Matthews.”

He ignored Brandon’s cocked head.

“Victoria Kelly.” Veronyka told Brandon after John released him.

“Ma’am.” Brandon tapped his forehead.

He slung their backpacks into the bed of his truck and opened the door for them. John let Veronyka take the middle of the bench seat.

“I talked to my buddy, Mike and he said he’d guide for you, no problem.” Brandon said as he pulled out.

“Is that really necessary?” Veronyka asked, after John nudged her.

Brandon kept his eyes on the road, mostly. “Ma’am, them mountains aren’t no joke. I’ll take you up there, but if you want to land and get out, no way I’ll let you do that without someone I know going with you.”

“Call me Vicki, please.” Veronyka laid a hand on Brandon’s bicep.

The car swerved, but they were the only vehicle and he managed not to crash.

“Uh, okay Vicki.” Brandon agreed. “Mike said he’d meet us at the inn. I figured we’d get together, talk. I got some maps in the back, and you can show me exactly where you’re wanting to go.”

“Thank you Brandon.” Veronyka said sweetly.

Mike Sassie turned out to be almost the exact opposite from Brandon. He was short, stocky with a wind-burnt, tanned face, and hair cropped close to his scalp. His eyes were dark, and he grunted what could charitably be called a hello when Brandon introduced them.

“Go check in, we’ll wait here for you.” Brandon waved, taking a seat at the table Mike was using. He started spreading out some maps as they waited.

The Inn had four rooms, only one of which was occupied. Once they were in theirs, Veronyka poked a finger in John’s chest.

“Look, I’m trusting you. I told you about my letters, and didn’t argue when you sent our destination to Jeff. But if you won’t show me some trust back, this isn’t going to work!”

John dropped his pack with a sigh. Walking around the mountains with the damned thing was going to S.U.C.K. giant donkey balls.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not my secret to share. There are things I know, because of what I’ve done, that I can’t tell anyone. At all. Ever. End of story.”

Veronyka glared at him.

“But,” he continued, “I can tell you something between us. Is that fair?”

“Like what?” Her eyebrow rose, while the other stayed scrunched.

His voice dropped. “It’s not just my ear, and my weapon. I have the Sight, too.”

A few seconds of silence as she picked her jaw up.

“You mean ... you can? Use that special vision from First World?” She whispered.

He nodded.

She straightened. “What did you see when you looked at me?”

“I didn’t use it on you.” He assured her.

He got the eyebrow again.

“I swear.” He made the boy scout three-finger sign. “I suppose I should have, but in what I call ‘normal vision’ you’re stunning. I guess I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“Oh, John.” She cupped his right cheek.

She leaned forward.

“You guys okay in there?” Brandon pounded on the door.

Veronyka touched her forehead to John’s.

“Please don’t kill him, he still needs to take us up.” She whispered.

“No promises.” He growled.

“We’re fine. Just give us a minute!” He called.

“Okay, but if you guys are shagging, we’re going for lunch.” Brandon promised.

“Now there’s a vote of confidence.” John muttered.

“John,” she pulled his face back to hers, “it’s okay.” She met his lips with hers.

A kaleidoscope of images rushed into his eye. He slammed his eyelid shut just in time, and relished the feel of how soft she was. She tasted like the caramel flavored chap-stick she’d applied this morning. Nothing fancy, just a kiss on the lips.

His first in over a decade.

“We’re coming.” She called, making for the door.

“That’s really not fair.” He rasped.

“What isn’t?” She yanked open the door, but Brandon was going back to the table.

“I don’t have legs!” He reminded her. “Balancing is a lot harder for me.”

She stopped. “I haven’t noticed you having trouble.”

“You haven’t kissed me before either.”

She giggled and winked, following Brandon.

“Why do you want to go there?” Was Mike’s question when Veronyka put her finger on the area they wanted to explore.

“It’s ... personal.” She looked away.

What an actress. John applauded silently.

What is an ‘actress’?

Someone who pretends to be someone else. As part of a performance.

Your woman is false? A whore? The Tooth disapproved.

Damn, I’m glad she can’t hear that. No, she is not a prostitute. We have stories that instead of being sung or told, are acted out by dedicated, what we call actors and actresses. Men and women who are very skilled at pretending to be a character.

How do they feed themselves? This does not seem like a beneficial profession.

People pay money to watch them. Some are quite wealthy. John explained.

The Tooth’s snort was her only reply.

Mike and Brandon were discussing particulars. Veronyka insisted they land on the north side of the peaks.

“There’s a glacier on the north side of Phenocryst Spire.” Mike argued. “Walking up that will be much harder. If you let Brandon land in Glacier lake,” he pointed at a long body of water to the southeast, “you can take this valley and climb Phenocryst, or Crescent, or Trident much easier.”