Territory by Deb2

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CHAPTER FIVE
REUNION

SCOUTS
DAY SIX thru DAY TEN

Dawn came late in the overcast morning, but it still came much too soon for the exhausted bodies. Breakfast was cold and inadequate. Denner attended to some personal matters immediately before heading on and found a whiteroot plant. She pulled it up, losing the larger tubers which snapped off and remained in the ground. The rest would make nourishing, if tasteless, snacks on the way. A quick check with home: nothing had changed.

Cameron drove. He, Denner and Alonzo had "mutinied", refusing to ride with the sleep-starved Danziger. So, Cameron drove while John slept, probably dreaming of revenge. Denner rode shotgun. Alonzo simply watched the clouds. They weren't a real concern. The 'Rail had plenty of stored power, enough to get them home. The leg he'd broken ached before wet weather. He rubbed it, as if easing the pain would hold off the rain.

They were making good time, following their trail back. The path was grassier now. The DuneRail bounced more, but it purred right along. Cameron slowed a bit.

"Look over there," said Denner. She was pointing westward, across the plain. "Here it comes."

Alonzo leaned to see around Danziger, who'd awakened with a start when Denner spoke. "Rain," the pilot said. A drab gray curtain was slowly moving eastward.

"Just what we need," growled John. "Just what we need." He scanned the area. "Stop the 'Rail, I'm driving."

Danziger was more reckless than Cameron, likely because he wouldn't bloody his own nose if the vehicle was damaged. Mr. Fixit, thought the erstwhile driver. Still, the displaced man had to admit, the mechanic was better behind the wheel. The ride was smoother in spite of increased speed.

The rain gracefully enveloped them. Visibility dropped to a few hundred feet. John slowed, begrudging every minute it cost.

They drove on in the steady rain, stopping infrequently and for as short a time as possible. The only excitement for the day was entirely unwelcome. Upon reaching another stretch of packed clay, Danziger had increased speed. Shortly thereafter, the DuneRail had hit a small rock and slewed around until the southbound vehicle was facing east. The big mechanic leapt out of the 'Rail to check for damage and himself slid, coating his side with sticky red mud.

John drove more carefully the remainder of the day. At dusk, they set up camp. First thing after the tent was up, Denner changed to her spare clothes. The men half-heartedly teased her as they put on dry clothing; she refused to leave the shelter and stood with her back to them, while they counted out the days of the week. The wet garments were draped on a line strung across the tent.

The next day's journey, and the next, was an ordeal. The nonamphibious nature of the DuneRail forced the scouts to detour several times. Danziger's temper grew shorter with every barrier. He managed to alienate his three companions by midday.

Rain was replaced by wind the fourth day. It was a mixed blessing, drying the ground, but sometimes gusting and pushing at the 'Rail. By evening, the trail was impassable only in the lowest spots. The rest was sodden earth and mud; not pleasant, but acceptable. They plowed on, sometimes slogging on foot thru mud to lessen the weight of the 'Rail. The scouts were grimy, tired, sick of the abundant whiteroot, sick of each other, and sick of G889.

It took six days to return to camp.

DAY 11
BASECAMP

The scouting party called ahead to let the others know approximately when to expect them. True pestered Magus to distraction; repeatedly the anxious girl asked if they were in sight yet. She asked one more time than Magus could stand. The irritated woman handed True the jumpers. "Here, you look for them!"

True smiling, snatched the jumpers and started to climb the hillside. "Thanks!"

Magus grabbed the girl's arm. "Stay here with me," she commanded. "You don't need to be up there in the open."

"Okay," True complied readily. She began scanning an arc from the northwest to the river's edge. In this case, at least, Danziger's daughter was the most conscientious lookout in camp. Concern and need for her father kept her attentive. Her perseverance did pay off, of course. A more mature part of the girl knew the scouts didn't return any sooner because she was watching, but the child part still believed in magic. She *felt* that checking for them sort of guided the scouting party home safely.

True stood, jumpers to her eyes, smiling broadly. She didn't say a word. The DuneRail might vanish if she did. Magus noticed the smile.

"Do you see them, True?"
"Uh-huh," replied the girl. "Right there!" She thrust the jumpers in Magus's general direction and sped toward the travellers. Magus nearly dropped both MagPro and jumpers.

The frustrated guard's shout of, "True! True Danziger, get back here!" alerted camp. Walman sprinted after the kid. Uly's intent to follow was thwarted before he took three steps. His mom's quiet, "Ulysses," froze him.

"I bet it's Mr. Danziger and the rest of them, don't you, Mom?" asked the boy, carefully distracting her.

It really wasn't necessary. Over gear came a chorus of delighted greetings. The relief was tangible.

Ten minutes later, the DuneRail arrived in camp. The Eden group was whole again. Hugs were shared, the reunited members drawing comfort from the touch. Alonzo and Julia shared a promising kiss between them; Cameron stepped up for his turn with the pretty doctor, prompting a laugh and a kiss on the cheek from her. He feigned a dejected posture. "That's all?" he said.

Alonzo reached for him, lips in an exaggerated pucker. Cameron straightened and, 'midst general laughter, escaped to the fringes of the group.

True had fallen and skinned the heels of her hands. She was angered almost to the point of tears by her clumsiness. Her father's sympathy caused one tear to escape; the girl bit her lip and dared any more to slip down her cheek. The usually independent tomboy clung to Danziger, arms around his neck, injured hands palms upward. True unintentionally helped both Devon and her dad out of an embarrassing situation. Not embracing would appear awkward; embracing would *be* awkward. Devon smiled up at John.

"We've missed you," she said. She patted True's arm. "Haven't we?"

"I'm glad to be home," Danziger replied. He hugged his daughter tightly. "I've missed all of you, too."

They stood together, neither willing to admit there was a lot more to say. John focused his attention on his daughter. True sensed the tension and became uneasy. She flexed her hands experimentally. She winced.

"Julia needs to look at those hands," suggested Devon, too firmly.

"Good idea, Adair," retorted Danziger. "Excuse me, please." He eased his way through the knot of people and deposited True at Julia's feet; the chromotilt immediately shifted into doctor mode.

Devon stood uncertainly where he'd left her. She was an unusually capable woman--an unusually capable *person*--skilled in dealing with all kinds of people in all kinds of situations. The fact Eden Advance was successfully walking across a continent proved that. Leadership and decision-making were as natural to her as breathing.

Sometimes, John Danziger complicated both.

Julia pronounced the wanderers healthy, except for skin irritation caused by staying wet for too long. They gratefully bathed, dressed in fresh clothing, and had an early supper with the family. Denner sparked a round of laughter when she said, in absolute sincerity, "It is so good to get back to civilization!"

The mechanic checked out the vehicles. There was apparently no damage to the TransRover, but the ATV had suffered because of the wind. He set to work on it because True wanted to help. At twilight, the Danzigers put away their tools and joined the others near the fire.

The little group practically glowed. Circumstances had not changed: Uly's River still barred the way west, the added worry of inaccurate maps still nagged them, and a wild man still roamed the forest. But they were all together, safe.

The arrowhead was examined by the scouts. Alonzo studied it for a long time. Something about it...what? Finally the dreamer passed the object back to Devon. Whatever 'something' was, he was having as much success pinning it down as he would have rolling fog up like a blanket. Danziger encouraged Morgan to repeat his story. Morgan had actually grown tired of it, and stripped the tale to its basics. The scouts asked questions, but nothing new was uncovered. Nothing new was decided. The guards handed their weapons to the next shift and went on to bed. It wasn't late, but they were tired. Those free to do so followed them.

True fell asleep as her father told one of the ghost stories she'd missed. He gently fingered a braid of straight blonde hair. Funny, how the humidity which coiled his own hair into tight ringlets caused True's to hang limply, straighter than ever. His little girl slept in a thin shirt and shorts, without covers, and still her head was wet from sweat.

John stretched out on his own cot. He'd never missed a night's sleep due to heat until G889. He lay awake, eyes closed uselessly, listening to the night creatures. Something True had said before she crawled into bed bothered him. He'd mentioned finishing up the work on the ATV and starting to search for the mystery man. His daughter had shaken her head. "The Terrians won't like that. They want us to stay far away from him."

"Where'd you get that idea?"
"Uly."
"Devon didn't say anything about it." "We've been keeping it a secret, so the rest don't get worried. But only until you get back."

"Who is 'we'?" Probably the kids.
True hesitated just a second. "Devon and Yale and me and Uly."

"That so? Huh."

Julia was also awake. Alonzo slept next to her on the relatively cool tent floor. Their private reunion had been unhampered by the temperature. In a short time, the rhythm of his breathing lulled her to sleep.

~~Alonzo crouched in a spotless white corridor, carefully opening a panel. He pulled it from the wall slowly, silently. Once inside the shaft revealed, he replaced it, secure enough to hold until he kicked it out. There was room to wriggle thru on his belly, feet first; suddenly, the passage widened. Alonzo turned and crawled on his hands and knees, and counted the branching passages. Eleven. This was it. Again on his belly, he squirmed to another panel. It was a bit more difficult to open; he persisted and caught it as slipped from its frame. Out, into the room, heels clicking on the floor. Here, this one. He unlocked the drawer. Inside, a bewildering matrix of chips and conduits. Painstakingly, Alonzo cut away one particular little electronic sensor. He replaced the drawer, locked it, and...

Alonzo stood next to a cot in which a slender young man slept. He picked up the pillow in the floor and carefully placed it over the man's face. It was so automatic, like he was watching someone else.~~ 'I'm dreaming,' he thought, and woke.

The pilot got up and wandered out for a drink. Outside, the dream dissolved as if moonlight was a solvent. Baines, on guard again, nodded at him. Alonzo saluted him with the cup of water.

The Terrians hadn't contacted him in over a month. Now this, and it was weird. He couldn't remember how, but the dream was different. It was gone, leaving only a feeling of urgency.

DAY 12
BASECAMP

The sun came up gloriously, monarch in a cloudless sky. It stretched out its rays, touching the mountaintops, the plains, the creatures of the plains. It caressed the Eden camp, embracing each member tenderly, holding fast to each. Yes, it was going to be another hot day. All day long.

Devon approached Alonzo before breakfast, and asked to speak with him privately. A little beyond camp, she stopped, faced him and got right to the point.

"When was the last time you heard from the Terrians?" The pilot himself wasn't sure. Last night? He told Devon the truth, but not all of it. "I haven't been on the Dreamplane in weeks. Why?"

"Uly." Devon lowered her voice, tho' no one was within hearing. "Yale overheard him talking with True the day van Heslin saved Morgan's life. The Terrians evidently have some connection with the man."

"Yeah? The Terrians have some connection with everyone we've met on G889, except the ZED. I think it's normal."

"I wasn't aware of a link with Elizabeth and Bennett." Alonzo shrugged. "Okay, Devon, the Terrians have a connection with almost everyone." He grinned conspiratorially. "You haven't told anyone else, have you?"

Devon folded her arms across her chest and stared at the ground as if a Terrian was due to pop up. "No. It may simply be Uly's imagination. I need you to contact the Terrians and confirm what he's told me."

"Whoa, wait a minute!" demanded the pilot-cum-dreamer. "Do you expect me to jump right in, walk up to the nearest Terrian and ask, 'Hey, do you know a guy named van Heslin?'"

"Well, I--I suppose not," she said to the ground, "but you can contact them, find out *something* about the situation. What kind of connection they have with van Heslin, and how it affects us."

Alonzo thought for a moment. "Just what did Uly have to say?" he asked cautiously.

Devon looked up at him. "Uly feels they don't want us to find him, and they want us to leave. He doesn't know why."

"And you want me to find out *why*," Alonzo deduced. "If you can, yes," Devon said reasonably. "Yeah. Yeah, it sounds like something we need to know." They walked farther from camp, Alonzo leading. It was wasted effort. The pilot received no more response than if he'd been trying to contact the stations.

Danziger, shirtless in the heat, was fiddling with the mysterious innards of the ATV. He caught Devon's eye as she and Alonzo returned to camp, but said nothing and continued with his work. Devon fully expected him to say something at breakfast. She couldn't imagine True not telling John about Uly's warning. The mechanic didn't bring it up--no one did--and he went right back to work after eating.

Devon felt oddly put out. She'd mentally gone over the inevitable confrontation with him several times, and had developed some very convincing arguments in favor of waiting until they knew more before seeking van Heslin. The woman joined Bess and Julia on the 'whiteroot preservation project' for a short time, leaving them when Yale brought her a new map he'd draw up. She retired to the privacy of her tent, sat at the table to study Yale's latest cartographic masterpiece, and began chuckling to herself. The walls of each inhabited tent were rolled up to admit any breeze that chanced by. Privacy, indeed.

The temperature continued to climb. Dr. Heller grew concerned; they'd arrived in autumn, survived winter, and had Devon not fallen ill, would have enjoyed spring; would the summer be so hot as to make parts of G889 uninhabitable? Specifically, this part? It wasn't yet midmorning. The temperature was 92 F., the humidity was 87%. After the fifth person complained of a headache, Julia checked everyone for signs of heat exhaustion, a condition she'd studied but never expected to diagnose. She concluded that they were in more danger from the heat than from a possible maniac who likely wasn't anywhere near them. Still, the doctor expected to hear arguments against going to the river, at least from the nonaquatic members. Only she, Devon and the Martins could swim (Morgan having acquired swimming licenses as soon as his status in the hierarchy permitted). Yale pointed out that the air would be cooler near the water, so there was no opposition. Most of Eden Advance, damp cloths draped over their heads, trudged down the hill, zig-zagging from shade to shade. Julia paid close attention to Yale and the children. Yale was old, and the children were too active.

Devon reluctantly stayed at camp. If True had said anything, if John had any questions...she left her map and brought him a cup of water. "Hi."

Danziger looked up her through a few stray curls of hair. His hands were greasy, and he futilely tried to blow the hair out of his eyes. Tossing his head back didn't work, either.

"I thought you might like some water," she said unnecessarily, offering him the cup.

"Thanks." He accepted the water and drained the cup. Devon noticed a canteen on the seat of the ATV. She picked it up and shook it. Nearly empty.

"I'll refill this for you."
"Yeah, thanks." John watched her walk away. Actually, he watched a certain portion of her walk away. Devon was wearing shorts. She almost never did, but it was nearly 100 in the shade. He turned back to his machine, flushing a bit. Evidently, the heat was getting to him.

All too soon, bare legs stopped inches from him. "I'll leave this here," she said, placing the dripping canteen back in the ATV.

John looked up through his hair again. "Appreciate it." Another ineffective toss of the head. Devon impulsively reached down and pushed the curls back. Her own action startled her. How long did she stand there, fingers caught in the damp blond hair? Only a second or two, surely. Slowly, trying to hide her selfconsciousness, she pulled back the willful hand and let it drop to her side.

His face was unreadable. Sweat trickled down, along his neck, and his chest. Devon abruptly stepped away, mumbling about getting back to the map. She started toward her tent.

"Devon."
She stopped and turned around, not knowing what to expect. John closed the distance between them, taking two steps where she'd needed four. "Thank you," he said softly.

Devon looked a bit confused. For what? Pushing his hair out of his eyes? "You're welcome."

John hesitated. He had to say something, offer some explanation, anything plausible. "I really appreciate your looking after True for me. It really means a lot, having someone I can trust taking care of her."

Devon grinned up at him, back on solid ground. "I know exactly what you mean, Danziger."

He grinned back. "Yeah. Well, I'm about finished with the ATV. Got to get back to work." The grin vanished as soon as he turned his back.

The mechanic took up his tools; as he worked, he silently berated himself. He shook his head, remembering her delicate fingers. Thanks, Adair. Thanks for reminding me I'm Danziger and you're Adair. Almost, just almost, he'd thanked her for 'being Devon'. No telling what she'd have read into that. John pinched a finger and instinctively stuck it in his mouth, grease and all. Yeah, right, thanks for being Devon. Thanks for dragging us across a continent. He scowled at her, studying that useless map. Thanks for wearing those shorts and little else. He picked up a rag and wiped his mouth, then his hands, and checked the injured finger. Blood blister. Thanks, Adair, for helping me keep my mind on my work.

John leaned his head against the little vehicle. Baines, listlessly passing on his way to scrounge for lunch, spoke. "Hey, man, is the heat getting to you?"

Danziger lifted his head and smiled crookedly. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is."

The ATV was repaired early in the afternoon. John ate a quick lunch--the heat killed his appetite, but his body needed fuel--and told Mazatl he was going on a test run. Mazatl thought it strange Danziger bothered with gear on a test run, but figured he was being cautious because of van Heslin. Had to be. He also took a MagPro.

John returned at dusk. Once away, he'd informed Camp that he would take a look around, see what he could see. Devon was livid. She'd torn into Danziger for making an 'unauthorized search'; he'd turned off his gear. Mazatl knew Devon had made a mistake using the word 'unauthorized'; he pointed it out to her.

The hot, irritable woman snapped at him. "Danziger has no business out there. He has no idea..." She pursed her lips, then said patiently, "Uly feels that the Terrians don't want us searching for van Heslin."

This put a different face on the matter. Maybe John should have talked it over with Devon first. Stationside, Mazatl had scoffed at ESP and the paranormal, alarming his relatives with his lack of respect for the spirits. Here, he'd seen too much weirdness; it seemed that there was no paranormal. And there certainly were spirits. The ops man accepted Uly's 'feelings' as readily as data from Yale's files. "Yeah? Why?"

"Uly doesn't know. This morning, Alonzo attempted to contact the Terrians and clarify the situation. They didn't respond."

Mazatl neatly folded the cloth he'd been using to wipe the sweat off his face and neck. "I'll talk to John, tell him what Uly said."

John figured that if the diggers didn't want him out there, they'd let him know. No Terrians erupted to prevent his snooping around. He kept searching, and found absolutely nothing. Finally, hot and tired, with nightfall approaching, the frustrated man returned to camp.

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