Emile looked around, dully, through eyes that did not seem to recognise his friend. He shook off Monster’s hand and continued to stumble on.
Monster trudged along after him, not sure why, or where they were going, but knowing that it was vital to keep moving.
They encountered another patch of rocks covered with thin ice. They were slippery and treacherous. Why there would be rocks here in the middle of an icefield, Monster couldn’t understand, although something about it caused a tickle at the back of his memory. Why was he even in an icefield?
Emile had sat down, Monster saw, and that seemed like a good idea. He was so cold and so tired. Emile leaned against one of the walls of ice that surrounded them. Where was Price? Monster wondered. She was supposed to be in charge of this mission, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. Where was Chisnall? His friend. Why wasn’t he leading the mission?
He began to sit down next to Emile and that was when he remembered. Chisnall was dead. His friend was gone. He had died fighting the Bzadians. Price was dead too, or soon would be, if he didn’t do something about it.
He loved her in a way that had taken him by surprise. When she had been terribly wounded on the last mission, it was as though he too had been injured. He had helped nurse her back to health, he remembered that. The long hours of rehab, building up the muscles in her new leg. But for what? So she could die in a Bzadian prison cell?
He could not let that happen. He could not stop, no matter how tired he was.
He shook Emile’s shoulder a couple of times and when that got no response, he grabbed the smaller soldier by the arms and hoisted him up in a firefighter’s lift.
Emile was light, even with his armour, but Monster was so tired and the first step seemed like an impossible task. He managed it though. After that, the second didn’t seem as hard, although he couldn’t understand why he was doing this, or who it was he was carrying.
He put one foot in front of the other and thought that if he could keep doing that, then he would be all right. They would be all right.
The sky was clear and the sun low on the horizon, a bright red disc that lit up clouds in shudders of orange and streaks of deep dark blue.
Ice under his feet turned to snow-covered rock, which began to rise up, steeper and steeper, until it was too hard to climb.
Perhaps if he dropped his pack. It was a heavy pack. He let it slide off his shoulders and was surprised to see a body fall to the ground. He had been carrying someone. But who? And why? Somehow that didn’t seem important. It was so hot here. Why hadn’t he realised that before? He was sweating. He had to get cool. He reached for the releases on his armour but his fingers were frozen into claws and he couldn’t get the clasps open.
He took one more step then felt the ground coming up to meet him. The snow was surprisingly hard.
He tried again to take off his armour, to cool himself down, but it would not come off and so he stopped struggling. That was making him hot, he decided. Better to rest.
And although nothing made sense any more, about why he was here, or why it was so hot, he did understand in some deep place that his body was shutting down. And it made him wonder. Was this really what the universe had in store for him?
All he could think was that it was a silly way to die.
Such a silly way to die.
NOKZ’Z
[MISSION DAY 1, FEBRUARY 16, 2033. 1400 HOURS LOCAL TIME]
[BERING STRAIT, SOUTH-WEST OF LITTLE DIOMEDE ISLAND]
“I am sorry about your friends,” Colonel Nokz’z said, in perfect English, walking down the row of Angels, neck-cuffed and restrained. “They were foolish to go out in those conditions without proper equipment.”
Price’s heart was thudding in her chest. She had given the order that had started the chain of events that had led to Emile and Monster running out into the storm. It had been her decision. Her call. Had she made a fatal mistake?
It
Monster trudged along after him, not sure why, or where they were going, but knowing that it was vital to keep moving.
They encountered another patch of rocks covered with thin ice. They were slippery and treacherous. Why there would be rocks here in the middle of an icefield, Monster couldn’t understand, although something about it caused a tickle at the back of his memory. Why was he even in an icefield?
Emile had sat down, Monster saw, and that seemed like a good idea. He was so cold and so tired. Emile leaned against one of the walls of ice that surrounded them. Where was Price? Monster wondered. She was supposed to be in charge of this mission, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. Where was Chisnall? His friend. Why wasn’t he leading the mission?
He began to sit down next to Emile and that was when he remembered. Chisnall was dead. His friend was gone. He had died fighting the Bzadians. Price was dead too, or soon would be, if he didn’t do something about it.
He loved her in a way that had taken him by surprise. When she had been terribly wounded on the last mission, it was as though he too had been injured. He had helped nurse her back to health, he remembered that. The long hours of rehab, building up the muscles in her new leg. But for what? So she could die in a Bzadian prison cell?
He could not let that happen. He could not stop, no matter how tired he was.
He shook Emile’s shoulder a couple of times and when that got no response, he grabbed the smaller soldier by the arms and hoisted him up in a firefighter’s lift.
Emile was light, even with his armour, but Monster was so tired and the first step seemed like an impossible task. He managed it though. After that, the second didn’t seem as hard, although he couldn’t understand why he was doing this, or who it was he was carrying.
He put one foot in front of the other and thought that if he could keep doing that, then he would be all right. They would be all right.
The sky was clear and the sun low on the horizon, a bright red disc that lit up clouds in shudders of orange and streaks of deep dark blue.
Ice under his feet turned to snow-covered rock, which began to rise up, steeper and steeper, until it was too hard to climb.
Perhaps if he dropped his pack. It was a heavy pack. He let it slide off his shoulders and was surprised to see a body fall to the ground. He had been carrying someone. But who? And why? Somehow that didn’t seem important. It was so hot here. Why hadn’t he realised that before? He was sweating. He had to get cool. He reached for the releases on his armour but his fingers were frozen into claws and he couldn’t get the clasps open.
He took one more step then felt the ground coming up to meet him. The snow was surprisingly hard.
He tried again to take off his armour, to cool himself down, but it would not come off and so he stopped struggling. That was making him hot, he decided. Better to rest.
And although nothing made sense any more, about why he was here, or why it was so hot, he did understand in some deep place that his body was shutting down. And it made him wonder. Was this really what the universe had in store for him?
All he could think was that it was a silly way to die.
Such a silly way to die.
NOKZ’Z
[MISSION DAY 1, FEBRUARY 16, 2033. 1400 HOURS LOCAL TIME]
[BERING STRAIT, SOUTH-WEST OF LITTLE DIOMEDE ISLAND]
“I am sorry about your friends,” Colonel Nokz’z said, in perfect English, walking down the row of Angels, neck-cuffed and restrained. “They were foolish to go out in those conditions without proper equipment.”
Price’s heart was thudding in her chest. She had given the order that had started the chain of events that had led to Emile and Monster running out into the storm. It had been her decision. Her call. Had she made a fatal mistake?
It
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