Castaways

Chapter 4

People speak of "jet lag" when entering new timezones on earth, or when visiting other planets where the times were different. It's an archaic notion, to be sure—it's been at least two centuries since humans used airplanes in any capacity. Even if it's archaic, the term is still used colloquially, and it's helpful to explain away a person's tiredness most of the time. But now, unfortunately, the term wasn't quite strong enough to really explain how confused my body really was. Ravnor's day and night cycles were slightly shorter than earth's, by about an hour for both the night and day. After a week in the atmosphere, the lag was starting to catch up with me, and my circadian rhythm was thrown completely out of wack. So much so that on the seventh day of our castaway situation, I'd completely lost track of the time while foraging for food and supplies. The sun started descending when I was about an hour's walk from the runabout, and once I realized the time, it was clear that dusk had already soaked the forest in its mucky, dim light.

The resulting darkness made it difficult to return back to the camp. I got turned around and lost too many times to count, and as the moon rose, the creatures of the forest became louder and, if it was possible, more foreign sounding. There were times when I even feared a nocturnal presence might deem me delicious looking and hunt me down. But as the moon climbed higher in the sky, I finally stumbled towards the edge of the forest. I brushed aside branches covered in rustling collections of succulent leaves and I stumbled into the clearing of our camp, heart pounding.

A wave of relief washed over my tired body, and as I began to feel relaxed, I took in the sight of the marooned runabout. Lights pulsed weakly from the busted door, and the opaque silver hull looked pearly white in the moonlight. But while that sight was bizarre and breathtaking, it wasn't what caught my eye. No, it was the fire burning in the pit we'd made on the first day. In the orangey glow of the flame I could see Julian's face staring bitterly. I expected him to be long asleep. What was he doing up?

I raised a hand slightly as I stepped into the clearing as a show of peace, and Julian's eyes snapped towards me when I stepped on a branch at the forest edge. He seemed surprised and defensive at first, but once he recognized me through the sheet of darkness, a feeling of relief crossed his features. His face, however, wasn't without a hint of sour expression.

"Thank god, you're alive," Julian said once I was in range. I clutched the back of my neck, embarrassed, and unconsciously hid the bag of forageables behind my back.

"I'm sorry I came back so late, I got a little lost," I explained. He didn't seem content with that answer though.

"Lost?" he asked, sounding, to my shock, genuinely upset. "You could have died!"

"I didn't exactly mean to lose my way," I said testily. Julian frowned.

"You don't think you could have been a little more careful?" he asked. He sounded exasperated. Quite frankly, I didn't appreciate it.

"What happened happened, Julian!" I fired back. "It was an accident!"

"What if you hadn't found your way back?" he snapped. "What if you came into contact with more Raveks?"

I opened my mouth to fight back and say something snarky, but I paused myself before I let something dumb and offensive slip out. Instead of reacting in a hostile manner, I paused and watched his face. I wanted to evaluate why he was so upset and being so critical. This wasn't like him. It probably wasn't from any sense of malice. So there must have been something else bothering him. His expression was upset, maybe, but it wasn't hard. His lips were pinned in a thin line and his jaw was tight, as though he were clenching his teeth. But his eyebrows were sloping, knitted together in a fit of worry. He didn't look angry. Slowly, it began to click. If anything, he looked frightened.