Spectator

Chapter Eleven: Now

For a moment, the four of them were simply silent. That was no quick tromp through the woods. A distance like that without any motorized vehicles or space shuttles would take days. Her leg felt better now, but how about after they traipsed a few hundred kilometers? This bag of medical supplies was far from endless. It was meant to provide survival assistance for a short term basis, until the rescue team could find them. In theory, it shouldn't take them too long to scope the entirety of the jungle, but if Jae was right in his assumption that they didn't want to risk contaminating the Tribes more than they already had—then they were on their own.

"Well, that's good news," Jae said first. "I was beginning to think things were being stacked against us. Nice to know I'm wrong."

"Jokes, now?" Nari said sourly. At least that was a good sign she was beginning to feel better. She still looked pale, with dark circles beneath her eyes, but the impetuous glower was enough like her old self.

"Jokes, always," Jae sniffed. "We don't all need to be droll and disheartened."

"Did you miss the part where we have to walk across the entire jungle?" Zakariah demanded.

"No, I did hear that part, strangely."

"If we stay put—" Zakariah started.

"No," Jae and Nari said in surprising unison.

"We can't just stay here and hope they'll come to us," Nari said firmly. Jae didn't say anything, but he rolled his eyes at Kali emphatically enough for her to hear the because we wouldn't get high marks that way.

"The research station, then?" Kali asked. Nari narrowed her eyes at her, in case she was sifting for some hidden sarcasm, but for once, Kali was sincere.

"It's our best bet," Jae sighed.

"Do you have any idea how many Tribes are between us and there?" Zakariah asked. "And you want to go tromping through the jungle, in the hopes that the Sentinels will step in and stop us from interfering?"

"Just as likely they'll hunt us down here, for trying to become domestic tree people."

"There's not even any weapons in here!" Zakariah exclaimed. "We have no way to fight the savages, who will almost certainly try to kill us."

"They're protected under our highest laws," Nari reminded him. "You really expected some weapons?"

"I would have liked them, yeah."

In agreement that was more begrudging from some more than others, they decided they would make the trek to the research outpost. They took what they could carry from the cache, had a dinner of BioVin bars, and found refuge in a tight-knit grove of trees that had all grown entangled with each other. It was nearly pitch black at this point, the only light from the small emitters from the survival stash. Still, a bright light was sure to warrant undesired attention, so they couldn't exactly flash it recklessly. Warmth wasn't completely absent, but there was a definite drop in temperature.

The worst part was how loud the jungle still was: the hooting of owls, the screeching of unknown creatures, the chittering of cicadas. Kali could swear she occasionally heard growling, and was reminded of the large cats that prowled these rainforests, nothing like the domesticated ones at home. Not all creatures had been successfully adapted to live on Mars, but felines and canines had been among the most important. But those weren't able to rip you to pieces with their claws and teeth. And what about the Sentinels? Were they watching them even now, ready to determine them a threat that needed to be eliminated?

"You're still awake too, huh?" Jae's whisper made her jump. He was leaning against a slim tree trunk, wrapped in one of the jacket covers from the cache, supposed to be insulated both against the heat, the cold, and the dampness of the humid air. It wasn't as comfortable as a camping bag, but it was all they needed. Not that Kali wouldn't kill for a soft mattress and a pillow right now, instead of slightly damp earth and hard roots. Her body was starting to ache again, but it seemed a bad idea to waste the PainAway on some bruises. And tomorrow would be another day of near death experiences.