Lest we lose our edens by Lia Faile

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Lest We Lose Our Edens, Part 3
by Lia Faile

The snow was still fairly deep farther up on the mountain where Whelan's lodge was located. Devon had been steadily trudging upwards trying desperately to ignore the droning complaints of Morgan Martin. *God! How did Bess put up with this wretch?!* Devon admired and preferred men who were in touch with their inner feelings and emotions, but Morgan was just too sensitive.--At least when it came to himself, not others.

"Oh God! How much farther? Why couldn't we have taken the rail or ATV? We don't have to worry about Gaal, Reilly, or Whelan! We're going to die right *here* frozen to death! I can't feel anything below my waist!"

*Or above your neck.* Thought Devon silently. fuming. Unable to stand another simpering syllable, Devon whirled around and fixed Morgan with flaming eyes.

"Morgan! Shut-up! *You* insisted on coming along! And if you utter one more word I'll knock you flat!"

A recalcitrant Morgan merely muttered under his breath.

Devon sucked in a deep calming breath of the cool crisp air. They continued onward in a stiff silence. She hated losing control like that. Letting someone get to you like that just gave them power over you. It taught them what buttons to push to drive you over the edge. Devon was used to being in control, being the one who pushed other people's buttons.

Back on the stations she had a reputation as being unflappable in the boardroom. Only problem was they were 22 light years from the nearest boardroom. There the only thing she had no control over was the disease that sought to steal her child from her. G889 was suppose to have solved that conundrum. With the Terrians help it had, but apparently at the cost of her otherwise meticulous life.
Hardships and obstacles were things she had expected to face on their new home. Only she had envisioned them differently. She had thought to deal with colony planning, irrigation systems, setting up a government, helping with the rehabilitation of the Syndrome children, etc. *Not* with bombs, crash landings, intelligent alien life forms, penal colonists, ZEDs, spies, the Council, and especially not John Danziger.

John Danziger was probably Devon's biggest threat on this planet. Right after the crash she had worried that he might openly challenge her for control of the group. So far he hadn't. Oh, but he'd hinted at it enough! Dangled it in front of her face whenever he wanted his own way. Plus he seemed to go out of his way not do what she told him to do. Direct defiance she could deal with, but Danziger was the king of the passive aggressives! He conveniently "forgot" to wear his gear, would go off without clearing it with her first, or he would just plain ignore her.

And that "look" he always gave her whenever she decided to do something he didn't approve of! Sometimes when she caught him rolling his eyes, pursing his lips and shaking his head, she had a overwhelming urge to punch him in the jaw. *Oh please God,* she prayed silently, *let him be all right.* Perversely John Danziger had become Devon Adair's rock. Simply by being there to fight with her, he helped distract her from the bleakness of their situation. *Please let me find him so I can punch him!*

A couple of hours later, the surrounded forest began to look familiar as they neared Whelan's lodge. It was just ahead between a couple of trees. Devon was just about to caution Morgan to be on the look out for the woodsman, when a nearby tree exploded with a spray of bark and limbs. Morgan and Devon both hit the ground and searched anxiously about trying to see which direction the weapon fire had come from. Devon debated whether to risk contacting the camp via gear. They had decided to use it only in extreme circumstances since they couldn't be sure it Gaal was using John's set to monitor them. Just then another bolt struck the tree they were closest to.

"Why is he firing at us?!" Morgan whined hysterically. "He knows we're not hostile!"

"Shush, Morgan!" Devon guesstimate the angle of trajectory of the last shot, and thought she had a rough idea of where Whelan was concealed. Staying crouched low, she turned to her left and addressed a small pile of debris made up of fallen branches and boulders.

"Whelan! Stop firing! We're from the Eden Advance Camp! We won't harm you!"

An eerie silence was her only reply. Morgan tugged on her coat sleeve.

"We gotta get out of heeere! He either doesn't remember us or doesn't care! Let's make a run for it!"

Devon grabbed Morgan's collar and shook him.

"Think, Morgan! If Whelan had wanted us dead, we'd be dead by now! He's just trying to scare us!" Devon hissed at him.

"Well it's working! I'm scared! Aren't you?!"

Just then a shadow fell over the bickering couple. They looked up to see Whelan towering over them with his laser bowgun aimed at them. Whimpering noises began to seep out of Morgan's throat. Devon gave him a quick slap on the arm to silence him. As she slowly rose to her feet she kept both hands visible.

"Whelan, it's me, Devon Adair. And this is Morgan Martin, you remember him?"

"I know you. And I remember hanging him upside down from a tree."

Morgan gave a nervous chuckle and stood up, but hide behind Devon as much as he could without appearing to be hiding behind her.

"That's right! Boy, did we have fun that day, huh?!"

Ignoring Morgan's ramblings, Whelan directed his question to Devon.

"Why are you here? Go back to where you came from. You aren't welcomed here."

"Whelan. please listen to me first! One of our group is in trouble. John Danziger has been taken captive by a penal colonist."

Whelan regarded her with a clinical detachment. "What does that have to do with me?"

Devon had the uncomfortable sensatation of knowing what an insect felt like stuck on the end of a specimen pin. Returning his stare she tried to at least look nonchalant.

"We need your help in tracking them."

"No."

"No?!" Devon's coolness evaporated. "Why?! He could be injured or dying! Please! Help us!"

"If he was careless enough to get captured, he should accept his fate. Life tests us constantly. He has failed. Survival is for the fittest. The weak and stupid are weeded out to make room for the strong and intelligent."

"*Bullshit!* I'm not buying into that Social Darwinism crap, Whelan! We aren't animals! We're humans! Humans help one another and take care of their weak and sick. Has your father poisoned your brain beyond all hope?!"

"Uh, Devon." Morgan tapped on the irate woman's shoulder anxiously. "You don't antagonize a person who has a weapon aimed at you!"

"Help them, Whelan."

An astonished Devon and Morgan looked up to see a familiar figure step out of the lodge.

"Mary."

Devon gasped and started towards the girl. Whelan barred her way. Mary placed her hand on his arm and trilled softly at him. This had some sort of calming affect on him because he relaxed his stance and let her pass. Mary and Devon embraced while Morgan looked on smiling.

"Mary! We looked everywhere for you! Yale was beside himself with grief when we didn't find you. We thought you had died out there all alone."

Devon took both of Mary's hands into hers and squeezed gently. Not normally a superstitious woman, Devon took the finding of Mary alive as a good omen that they would find Danziger alive too. Mary returned her smile and cocked her head in that puppy-dog way of hers.

"I would be dead, if not for Whelan."

She paused, looked back over her shoulder and graced the woodsman with an angelic smile. He returned her gaze impassively.

"Whelan found me half dead. He took me in and gave me time to realize that I didn't want to die. That there could be a life for me without the Terrians."

Devon's gaze traveled between Mary and Whelan and back again. Just how did Whelan convince Mary to choose life over death she wondered? Had he taken advantage of her ignorance and innocence? Was Mary her own person, or merely Whelan's toy now? Devon decided to test her.

"Mary, you heard what I said about John Danziger, right? Do you remember him?"

"Yes, he gave me this coat."

"That's right! He's in trouble and we have to help him. Only I need help to find him."

Mary turned her attention back to Whelan and reiterate her demand.

"Help them, Whelan."

"No."

Letting go of Devon's hands, she walked up to him and laid her hand lightly on his chest.

"But why? You helped me."

"That was different. I wanted you."

"Then they are the same. If you still want me, you will help them. Otherwise, I will go with them and share their fate whatever it may be. You will never see me again."

Whelan's face grew even more stony. He snatched her hand from his shoulder and pushed her to the ground. He took one step towards her and stood there glaring down at her. Devon kept her hand on her sidearm prepared to defend the girl if he attacked.

"I see now that *all* women are as devious as SHE was."

He said this quietly in reference to his dead mother. He turned and entered the lodge without another word or glance her way. Mary got up and brushed the snow from her rump. She grinned at Devon and Morgan.

"Come." She made a beckoning gesture with her hand as she headed for the lodge door. "He will help."

Devon followed the girl into the dwelling with an incredulous Morgan close behind.

"*That* was a yes?!" He hissed softly.

Once their eyes had adjusted to the dimmer interior light, Devon and Morgan were relieved to see that although the vines remained, the skeletons had been removed from the alcove that had been their resting place for years. Seeing where their gazes lingered, Mary gave them an explanation.

"Whelan's people are at peace now."

She lead them to another room where Whelan was seated at a crude table drawing a map on a animal skin with a piece of charcoal. He neither looked up or acknowledged them in anyway. Devon finally sat down next to him and began to study the map that was quickly taking shape before her.

"This is your lodge here?"

She pointed to a spot and waited for his conformation of her bearings. Whelan's curt nod was her only reply. Devon drummed her fingers lightly on the table top. Her need of Whelan's help was the only thing keeping her tongue in check. She longed to lecture the young man on the basics of common courtesy. Looking around, she noticed that Mary had disappeared. Morgan was hovering nervously and conveniently by the door.

"I became aware of him several weeks ago."

Devon jumped at the sound of his voice. Whelan had paused in his cartography and was staring at her with that intense yet oddly far away look of his.

"I'm sorry. Became aware of who? Gaal?"

"I do not know his name, only his handiwork."

"Handiwork? I don't understand."

"Several weeks ago I began to find animals in my traps that had been tortured and mutilated. At first I thought that scavengers were the culprits, but I've never seen those type of wounds inflicted by another animal before."

"What makes you think it was Gaal?"

"Four days ago, I went to check a trap a couple of miles from here. As I approached, I could hear the animal's screams of fear and pain. Then I saw him. A short tattered thing with a scar on one cheek. He was jabbing at it with a sharpened stick. Its eyes had already been put out, but it continued to snap blindly and desperately at him. All the while, he was laughing."

Devon had visible paled and Morgan was making his whimper noises again. Mary reappeared ladened with a tray full of food and steaming mugs. She set it down onto the table, fetched Morgan and sat him down in front of Devon. A mug was placed in his hands.

"I had never seen such cruelty or enjoyment of it since my father. I watched for nearly an hour until the animal finally died of its wounds and exhaustion. He stopped laughing then and seemed angry at the beast for spoiling his fun by dying. He removed some flesh and put it into a sack. I followed him to his lair. I did not enter."

"W...Wha...Why didn't you kill him?"

Morgan stuttered as he lifted the trembling mug to his lips. Whelan turned his eyes to Morgan and studied him as if he were a bug. An ordinary, boring bug.

"I thought of it."

Turning away from Morgan he addressed the rest strictly to Devon.

"You showed me that what I thought was a demon all these years was just an image of my dead mother. That doesn't mean they don't exist. I have done some harsh and terrible things to survive, but I never took pleasure in them. That thing is not human, or Terrian, or Grendler. If he is not one of these, how could I be sure I could kill him? You had better hope that your man is dead and not still alive. Surely he wouldn't be treated any better than that animal in my trap."

Looking into Whelan's eyes, Devon was startled to see real fear in them. If Gaal frighten someone like Whelan, what chance did the group have against him? She took a sip of the native brew. It didn't taste like coffee, but it was hot, strong, and served the same function as coffee. Examining the map, she began to ask Whelan details about distances, landmarks, and orientation to their Base Camp. About an hour later, they had finished eating and Devon had a good idea where Gaal's hideout was. Hopefully he hadn't moved in the last couple of days. She stood and rolled up the map.

"Thank you for your help, Whelan."

She extended her hand. Whelan stood up but didn't take her hand.

"You can thank me by never coming here again." He responded flatly.

Devon lowered her hand and nodded. She didn't appear shocked by his demand. Morgan however, stood up and exclaimed excitedly.

"What do you mean? 'Thank you' and 'don't come here again'?!" Morgan looked anxiously from Whelan to Devon and back again. "You *are* coming with us, right? Devon, none of us have the experience to deal with that mad man!"

"I will not go near that demon again. If you are wise, you won't either."

"Gaal isn't a demon, Whelan. He's a man. A sick, terrible man."

"Regardless of what he is, he wears the smell of death about him like a shroud."

"Do you hear that, Devon?! 'Death,' 'shroud.' Whelan won't even go near that lunatic! What chance to we have?!"

Ignoring the fact that she had the same concerns herself, Devon jumped verbally on Morgan. "What chance does Danziger have without us?!" She shot back. "He was willing to risk his life to go after you, Morgan even though he had good reasons to leave you to the Terrians. You *owe* him."

Morgan had the decency to look ashamed. "Yes, I owe him. I owe him several times over. But I don't think even he would want me to pay him back with my life."

"We'll discuss this later. Back at Camp. Come on we need to start back before it gets too late. The others will be worried."

Devon turned to Mary.
"You know you are welcomed to come with us. Both of you."

Mary smiled and shook her head. She moved to Whelan's side and slide her hand into his.

"My place is here. This is my home, our home."

Whelan actually managed a small smile at her pronouncement.

"Yale will be so disappointed that he didn't get to see you, but he will be relieved to know that you are alive and safe."

Mary moved to the table and picked up a piece of fruit much like the one she shared with Yale during his captivity with the Terrians. She placed it in Devon's hand. Looking up with tears in her eyes, she gave Devon a message to rely to Yale for her.

"Tell Yale,...tell him that he was right. I am not a Terrian. But I'm still learning what it means to be human."

Devon hugged her and slipped the fruit into her pocket. "We all are Mary, we all are. That a part of being human."

She and Morgan stepped outside. Devon inhaled sharply and blinked several times to dry the tears that sprang into her eyes before they fell. She buttoned her coat and put on her gloves, and they headed back down the mountain.

"Whelan and Mary. Who would have guessed?" Devon mused aloud breaking the silent trek a while later.

"'Every pot has its cover.'" Morgan recited softly.

Stopping and turning towards him, Devon threw Morgan a quizzical look. "What?"

Looking a bit startled that he'd been overheard, Morgan blushed. "Oh, it's just something Bess tells me whenever I ask her what she sees in me."

Adjusting his scarf, he shrugged and grinned feebly. "She just smiles, pats my cheek, and says 'Every pot has its cover.' Then she kisses me on the nose."
Morgan broke into a huge smile at the memory of Bess.

"You really love Bess don't you?"

"Even more than myself." He laughed. "If you can believe that!"

Devon chuckled with him.

"I honestly don't know why she puts up with me. When we were first married I didn't push it. I just thought she was using me to get off Earth and into a better life. Figured she'd disappear the second the marriage contract expired."

"You married Bess thinking she was just using you?"

Absently Morgan picked up a stick and ran it along the ground through the snow as they trudged along.

"Why not? I was using my influence and power to catch her. No one was more shocked than me when she agreed to a permanent marriage! I mean what did she have to gain by staying with a stranded, lowly level four official whose own government was trying to kill him? Especially when there are all these attractive, macho type guys around flexing their big muscles."

"Don't worry Morgan, Bess loves you."

Morgan cleared his throat and gave Devon an earnest look. "I know. And one day, I hope to be worthy of that love."

He looked so pathetic and morose that Devon reached out and gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. Just when she had him pegged as a gutless weasel, he surprised her. Morgan Martin might be gutless, but he wasn't a weasel.

"You have a lot going for you, Morgan. You're an indepensible part of the group."

Morgan wiped his nose on the cuff of his coat sleeve and looked surprised. "Really? I am? In what way?"

*Damn!* He would ask for specifics! Devon looked about frantically racking her brain.

"Well...you always stress caution when others want to rush on in. Uhn...we would be lost and totally disorganized without your expertise with managing reports. Oh! And you're very punctual!"

She ended with what she hoped was a believable smile.

"I am aren't I?" Morgan grinned and smoothed the front of his coat. "I'd proposed several procedural changes to my supervisors on how to improve the flow and accuracy of asteroid mining records. What I did see was...."

Devon pasted a smile on her face and nodded when appropriate as Morgan regaled her with his exploits of slaying the Digital Dragon of Bureaucracy back on the stations. The walk back seemed much longer that the way up.

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