“You have a girl back in the now?” Wallace, being the gregarious member of the team, tried to get Harris to open up.
“No.” He stirred the fire with a stick.
“A dog?” Wallace was fishing.
“No.”
“So, you’re a girl-less, dog-less kind of guy.” Wallace joked, but Harris didn’t seem amused.
“I’ve got a dog.” Nunez had a half-grin on his face. “He eats losers like you for breakfast.”
Wallace bristled.
“That’s enough small talk,” Jackson cut in.
It seemed impossible to draw them out, even in the most congenial setting. Lounging around a campfire could have been a perfect opportunity for team building. She decided that Nunez and Harris were a team of two, or maybe two separate teams of one.
She was ready to call it a night, but she didn’t want to be the first.
“I’m going to turn in.” Finally, Ted left for the tent he was sharing with Wallace.
“Yeah, I’m with you.” Wallace scowled at Nunez.
An awkward silence fell over the four who remained. Jackson wanted to be the last to leave the fire. She studied Nunez and Harris through the flames. Were they really as unlikeable as they seemed? Elle was easygoing, she seemed to take them in stride. Being a woman in the field of science, she was probably used to dealing with male egos.
“Good night, Captain…Dr. Graham.” Harris brushed debris and dust from his pants.
“Good night.” They answered almost in unison.
Nunez followed Harris with a nod in their direction.
Finally, Elle and Jackson were alone. A tiny amount of tension released its grip on Jackson’s shoulders. She wished for different circumstances. In another time, in another place, this would have been incredibly romantic.
The fire danced and crackled, almost transparent against the dark of the primordial forest behind them. Leaves stirred somewhere high above her. A reminder that the grove was darkly and secretly alive. She heard the distant call of an owl.
“Should we?” Jackson tipped her head toward the tent.
“Yes, I’m beat.” Elle’s face was warmly lit by the fire. “It’s hard to leave the fire though. It feels so good. Although, it’s also making me very sleepy.”
Jackson stood up and offered her hand to Elle.
“Is it okay to leave the fire?” Elle’s hand was soft and warm in hers.
“Yeah, we’ve got a good clean buffer around it. And it’ll slowly burn out.” Jackson finally released Elle’s hand. “Plus, I think it may rain shortly.” She looked up as if the sky might tell her something.
The air was cool and damp as they left the warm oasis near the firepit. Jackson unzipped the front of the tent and held the flap for Elle to enter. Elle sat on her sleeping bag so that she could take her shoes off beside the door. Jackson did the same, after she zipped the flap closed. She stowed her weapon at the edge of her thin air mattress on the side farthest from Elle. Then she placed a flashlight on the tent floor between them.
“If you need to go to the latrine during the night, please wake me.” Jackson slid down into the bag. She decided under the circumstances to sleep in her clothes.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, no more solo trips for you.” She quirked an eyebrow at Elle.
“Got it.” Elle smiled. “Or should I say, yes, Commander.”
“I do like the sound of that.” She smiled. Jackson was on her back with her eyes closed. She adjusted the position of the inflated pillow. They each had an ultra-thin expedition style air mattress and the pillow was supposed to add comfort, but she wasn’t sure it did. They were still sleeping on the ground.
Not too long after they’d settled in, as Jackson had predicted, the rain arrived.
Only the faintest flicker of light from the dying fire glowed across the nylon at the front. The light tapping of raindrops hitting the tent was a nice sound to drift off to. So why wasn’t she sleepy? Oh yeah, because a woman she couldn’t stop thinking about was lying next to her in a separate sleeping bag. She let out a long slow breath.
“Jackson, are you asleep?” Elle whispered.
“No.”
“I can’t sleep either.”
Jackson rotated her head to see that Elle was lying on her side, facing Jackson. She waited for Elle to say more.
“I think I’m having an existential crisis.”
Jackson wasn’t sure if Elle was joking or serious.
“Do you ever have that feeling?”
“Maybe, sometimes. Although, I’m not sure exactly what you mean.” Jackson tried hard not to think of some things but couldn’t always help it. Losing Camille had shaken her world view and her perception of herself in that world. It didn’t take much to send her to dark places.
“I have these moments when I worry that I have no idea what I’m doing. Or…or if what I’m doing will have any significant effect on anything.” Elle was serious. “Sometimes I feel insignificant in the face of all the challenges.”
“The world has big problems.” Jackson stated the obvious.
“Civilization must shift from simply maintaining our current state toward repair and protection.” Elle paused. “Or what we’re doing now, the risk we’re taking…if society doesn’t evolve, then regardless of what we’re doing here, nothing will change.”
Was Elle trying to convince herself to feel better about the future? She was talking to the wrong person if she was looking for optimism.
“I think we all want our lives to have purpose and meaning.” Jackson hesitated. What was she really trying to say? “But you can only really have an impact on what’s right in front of you.” She couldn’t make out Elle’s expression in the dark, but she could see that she was propped up on her elbow. “We will all eventually be forgotten, no matter how hard we try to make a difference.”
Elle was quiet. Jackson realized her thoughts had gone to that dark place anyway. Then Elle touched her shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think of that.” How did Elle know what she was thinking of?
“What do you mean?” Jackson wasn’t trying to reveal things to Elle, but she feared she had already.
“Can I sleep next to you?” Elle didn’t wait for a response. She wiggled in her sleeping bag until it was against Jackson’s.
“Um, sure…yeah, that’s fine.” She had no idea how to respond to that request.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue today.” Elle kissed her lightly on the cheek, then settled back onto her pillow. But she left her arm draped across Jackson on the outside of the sleeping bag.
“You’re welcome.” Jackson was stiff, trying not to feel things. But her body had a mind all its own where Elle was concerned.
She was afraid to touch Elle or she’d give herself away. She needed to keep her head in the game. This wasn’t some college excursion and she wasn’t sharing a tent with Elle in the hopes of getting laid. They were mission collaborators, colleagues, friends, and Elle was seeking comfort and some sense of security, that was all.
Jackson lay quietly, listening to the rain and Elle’s steady breathing. Elle had quieted and was likely asleep. Jackson closed her eyes and attempted to still her unsettled mind. A nearly impossible task despite the fatigue of the day.
* * *
Elle had woken with the sun. She’d slept fitfully, not quite able to get comfortable on the nonexistent air mattress. Or maybe it was her proximity to Jackson. She’d suggested they should be friends, but she probably should have clarified whether that was with or without benefits. The former was clearly her preference. Maybe once they were back in real time they could sort that out.
Camp coffee tasted pretty good. She’d downed two cups along with a protein bar. After freshening up and brushing her teeth, she was wishing for a shower, but that would have to wait until they returned to the SLST craft. Unless they lingered here for an additional day, in which case, the wide, shallow stream she’d crossed ju
st north of their position, despite the chilly water, would be quite appealing.
She’d grabbed one gallon-sized container and some small specimen jars that she’d placed in her backpack, along with her water bottle. They were here to get phytoplankton, but there was no harm in harvesting other organic matter that might prove helpful for additional research. Elle was inspired to make the most of this expedition.
The previous night’s rain made the path to shore slick in spots. She alternated between looking up and focusing on her steps. Ted was in front of her. He’d almost slipped at the steepest part of the trail but caught himself on a rock jutting from the cliff side. Once they reached the sand, they split up. Ted had been oddly quiet all morning, but she assumed he was overwhelmed the same as she was by all that they were seeing in this new, old world.
She was a hundred feet or so north of Ted’s position. The day was clear and bright, although chilly. It was still morning, probably not much past nine. She finished filling the gallon tank and affixed a cap and then carried it back to the beach beyond the reach of the undulating surf. Her back was stiff. She stretched in an arc with her hands against her lower back as she scanned the shoreline. Sand dunes carried by nearby rivers were stacked up by coastal winds and stabilized by plants such as beach primrose and beach morning glory.
Dune plants were unique. They had to tolerate salt, partial burial from time to time, and a lack of fresh water. She admired their adaptive tenacity.
Green skeletal remains of giant kelp clumped together at the edge of the surf in spots. Green-brown fronds with long tubular stalks with many crinkly toothed, leaf-like blades, each attached to a stalk by a pear-shaped air bladder. They gave off the strong odor of living things now dead.
Shore birds sang from their perches. She’d seen whimbrels and willets. Nearby, sanderlings probed the sand for small organisms, including burrowing pismo and razor clams. Above the high tide line, she noticed a snowy plover’s nest in the open sand. She took a few moments to jot down her observations in a small journal she carried in her pack.
Creatures carried on with the stuff of living all around her.
This could be yesterday, or tomorrow, but not modern Earth. Present day Earth had lost so much diversity of species. Modern Earth had lost so many voices.
Elle was struck again by her own insignificance in the immense march of life.
She bent again to her task. She’d filled the gallon container with sea water and now wanted to place other specimens in the smaller jars. She’d waded out in order to get the best samples. She’d worn water shoes and lightweight pants that she’d rolled above her knees. But they’d still gotten wet from the receding surf. She was waiting for more containers. Jackson and the rest of the team had taken turns ferrying the containers back to base camp two at a time. By Elle’s count there were only two more to fill to meet their target. She didn’t see anyone returning to the beach yet. It was a steep climb and no doubt better to rest before making the return trip.
In the meantime, she’d work with her smaller glass jars. She squatted near a tidal pool. The tide pools were like miniature seas. They contained sponges and starfish, while sea anemones clung to the glistening rocks. Elle would be content to spend hours on the beach. Being here like this made her feel like a young girl, enlivened by discovery.
Chapter Twenty-one
Things were going well. Jackson’s legs were feeling the climb from the beach, but they’d made good progress this morning. At the current rate they’d have all the containers filled by noon which would allow them to break camp and sleep at the ship tonight. They were going to easily hit the seventy-two-hour extraction target.
She and Wallace were standing at the back of the ATV. She was taking a long swig from her canteen. The hike made her thirsty.
“I think these are the last two.” Wallace checked the caps. He dropped one and bent to retrieve it.
He’d been blocking her line of sight, and when he leaned down she saw Harris aiming a sidearm in their direction.
“Stay down!” She dropped behind the ATV.
But Wallace was already in motion when she yelled. A bullet clipped his shoulder. He spun, dropping the container. He fell sideways. Harris fired again, catching Wallace in the leg before Jackson could pull him safely behind the oversized wheel.
“What the fuck?” Wallace pulled his weapon free from the holster. Red seeped through the cloth of his pants just above his knee.
“It was Harris.”
“Asshole!” Wallace grimaced as he tried to peer around the back of the vehicle.
A bullet whizzed past just as he ducked.
“My gun is on the passenger seat.” She’d taken it off for the last trip to the beach. Now she regretted the decision. She crawled on her stomach toward the passenger side of the vehicle and felt on the seat for the holster. It was missing.
Jackson’s mind raced. Where was Nunez?
She scuttled back as Wallace fired a couple of rounds in Harris’s direction.
“He’s got my gun.” She was pissed at herself for being careless. For trusting someone she hadn’t personally vetted for the team. Jackson crouched beside Wallace. “There’s no way he’s on his own in this.”
“Nunez was headed to the beach a minute ago.” Wallace winced and gripped his leg.
Jackson could tell they were thinking the same thing.
“You go.” Wallace angled for a better firing position. “I’ll cover you.”
“Let me tie that off first.” Jackson took off her belt and tightened it around Wallace’s thigh to slow the loss of blood. He grimaced as she cinched it.
“Are you okay?” Stupid, rhetorical question. He was not okay and this was a bad situation. Wallace was wounded, she was unarmed, and the science team was undefended.
“I’ve got this.” He nodded. “You need to go. I can’t get there with my leg like this. And if we lose the science team then we lose everything.”
Elle!
All she could think of was Elle.
“Okay.” Jackson mentally prepared to make a run for it. “You stay frosty, Wallace.” She put her hand on his uninjured shoulder and set her canteen on the ground next to him. “You’re a much better shot than this gun for hire. You know that, right?”
He nodded.
“Go kick some ass, Captain.” He braced his arm and waited for her to give him the signal.
She’d have tree cover only for the first part of her sprint, then the tree line would transition to shrubs and rocks before reaching the path to the cliff and finally, the beach trail. She’d be completely exposed at that point. If Nunez was in on this ambush, which she had to assume he was, then he had a good head start. He’d have heard the gunfire so she’d already lost the element of surprise.
Jackson took a deep breath, nodded at Wallace, and bolted from her position. A tree splintered from gunshot as she dove behind it. She didn’t stop, she couldn’t stop. Her focus became singular. She sprinted from tree to tree as Wallace returned fire to offer her cover. Another bullet came close, striking a branch just above her head as she sprinted over the uneven ground.
The price of doing what Jackson did was high. She’d shut down parts of herself, a biological, physiological response to missions where things didn’t go as planned. Where decisions had to be made, where people got hurt, where force was necessary in order to defend the team. She would do anything to protect the people she cared about.
At some point in her career as a soldier, she’d come to the realization that conflict was much more about love than hate. In the moment of reckoning, you harnessed everything you ever loved, everything you ever cared about—those were the things that propelled you forward, those were the things you fought for. Not the entire world, just one little part of it.
Jackson was at a dead run when a bullet came from her left. She’d surprised Nunez by catching up with him just before exiting the tree line. He was close. He fired again just as she lunged at his midsection. They both we
nt down with a thump and tumbled. His pistol hit the dirt, and while still on the ground, she kicked it out of his reach. He swung at her landing a right hook to her jaw. The blow was like a sledgehammer to the side of her head. She saw stars.
He swung again, with his left fist, and she tumbled out of range and scrambled to her feet. They faced off. The gun lay in the dirt behind Jackson, but she didn’t think she could get to it before he stopped her.
More shots sounded from the direction of base camp.
“That’s Harris going down.” Jackson sidestepped, keeping her knees bent so that she could react more quickly. “What the fuck is going on, Nunez?”
She wasn’t hoping for some monologue of villainy, she just wanted answers. None of this made any damn sense.
“I’d say your pilot just bought it,” Nunez taunted her.
“And how’s that gonna work out for you? How do we fly a ship with no pilot?”
“Wallace isn’t the only pilot, Jarhead.”
“Wrong branch of the service, asshole.” So, either Harris or Nunez was a pilot. That was news. But still, why derail the mission? What could they possibly hope to gain? Unless…unless, they weren’t the ones calling the shots. These guys weren’t mental giants for sure. Someone else had put all of this in play.
Nunez went for her, catching Jackson around the waist. She hit the ground hard. He was on top of her now. He tried to punch her in the face, but she dodged, angled her head sharply, and his fist hit the hard-packed ground. She struck him in the throat but not hard enough to dislodge his position. He outweighed her and she was struggling to regain control of the fight. She lurched beneath him using every muscle in her legs as torque. She tried to rotate and twist out from under him. He lost his balance for just a second, and she was able to use that small imbalance to roll with him. She kicked free and reached for the gun, but he caught her leg and dragged her back. She kicked him twice in the face. Blood gushed from his nose, but she couldn’t break free.
The Sea Within Page 14