* * *
In the morning, as the sun climbed and filled the bedroom with its golden light, we held each other and I suggested that later we drive down to MacIntyre and hire a bison.
I left her villa, arranging to pick her up in an hour, and hurried over to the Mantis. I showered and changed, and was about to dash out when the com chimed. I had half a mind to ignore it, but on impulse accepted the call.
Kee’s innocent child’s face filled the screen. She was leaning close, staring intently. “David!”
“Kee, what is it?”
“David, the woman I saw yesterday. She was the same woman I saw in my vision of the scared cavern!”
I shook my head. “Are you sure...?”
“David – please tell me. Are you going to the cavern?”
I blinked. “Ah...”
“David! Please – don’t go!”
“Kee, Kee, calm down. There’s no need to worry. Trust me. We’re merely going to return something that belongs to your people.”
She interrupted, “But the woman, David! I saw her in my–” She stopped suddenly and glanced, frightened, over her shoulder. Then I heard Hawk’s muffled enquiry, “What woman, Kee? Who are you talking to?”
“No one!” she almost screamed.
“Kee,” Hawk said, and I saw his torso behind her as he moved towards the screen.
“No,” Kee cried, and cut the connection.
I stood there for ten seconds, in a daze of indecision, wondering whether to call Hawk and explain the situation. In the end, not wanting to alert him to Kee’s vision, I thought it best to leave well alone.
I hurried from the dome and collected Carlotta and the boxed relic, and we drove south to MacIntyre in the glorious autumn sunlight.
One hour later, after hiring a bison and setting off inland, a combination of Carlotta’s exhilarating company and my rationalism persuaded me that Kee’s outburst had been nothing more than heightened alien superstition. I told myself that Carlotta might have born a passing resemblance to a woman in Kee’s drug-induced dream, but the idea that Kee had been granted a glimpse into the future was ridiculous.
“What are you thinking about, David?” Carlotta asked, resting her head against the back of the seat and gazing at me with loving eyes.
I smiled. “I was just thinking about how happy I am,” I said.
We reached Dar just after midday. If the Ashentay were surprised at the appearance of a second set of humans within a week, they gave no sign. A posse of tiny children crowded the bison as I braked on the outskirts of the village. We climbed down and approached the few adults who had bothered to emerge from their huts at the sound of the vehicle’s engine.
The emaciated elder, Jyrik, faced us and spoke in his language. I was about to gesture, helplessly, that I could not understand.
Then, to my astonishment, Carlotta stepped froward and spoke in halting Ashentay.
I stared at her when she’d finished. She smiled. “Not just a pretty face, David. I’ve been teaching myself the language for months.”
The elder replied, and seconds later the slim, lithe guide called Qah appeared at his side.
Carlotta inclined her head and spoke her thanks.
We returned to the bison and I gunned the engine, heading away from the village towards the flattened jungle where the first bison had broadened the path. Qah sat behind us, leaning through the gap in the front seats and speaking to Carlotta. When Carlotta failed to reply, or spoke only the occasional monosyllable, Qah gave up.
I glanced at Carlotta. She seemed withdrawn now that we were so close to the sacred cavern, almost nervous. She leaned forward, staring ahead at the tangled undergrowth, and I wondered if she were thinking back to the time her lover Ed Grainger had found himself in the jungle of Chalcedony... Jealousy burned in my gut like bile.
I said, to provoke a response from her, “We drove the bison for a couple of hours last time, Carlotta. When we couldn’t go any further, we walked the rest of the way. That took about another two hours.”
I glanced at her, but she only nodded minimally.
“I must say it was hard going, in the humidity and all...”
“Yes,” she said abstractedly, “I guess it must have been.”
I turned my attention to forcing the bison over the uneven terrain. The fact that we were following the track originally laid down by the first bison made the job a little easier, but I was no expert at off-road driving. We stalled often and once, stupidly, I even found I’d taken a wrong turning. Qah soon put me right, calling out in her breathy language and pointing out the correct way.
Three hours later the bison stalled again, butting up against the fallen tree trunk that had impeded the first bison. Qah said something to Carlotta.
“This is the end of the road. We walk from here.”
We climbed from the cab and I shouldered my rucksack, which contained food and water. In Carlotta’s was the religious relic, well packed. Qah skipped off like a gazelle and we did our best to follow. Thankfully, Carlotta was dressed for the occasion in slacks, blouse and sturdy boots. If anything, the casual, androgynous apparel emphasised her glamour. She looked like the female lead in some low-budget jungle adventure holo.
I found the trek just as hard going this time around. To my surprise – call it overweening male pride, if you will – Carlotta forged ahead in Qah’s wake, and they had to stop from time to time and wait for me to catch them up. I was relieved to see that Carlotta didn’t resent the delay I was causing; she had her water canister awaiting me, and even kissed my forehead with a tolerant smile.
A couple of hours later we came to the clearing before the waterfall, and Carlotta stopped and stood, legs planted astride, fists on hips: against the silver fall of water she cut a magnificent figure.
“I never thought I’d see the day...” she began, clearly overcome.
She turned to Qah and spoke Ashentay.
The girl replied.
“What?” I asked.
Carlotta said, “I told her I had something, a gift for the elder in the sacred cavern.” So saying, she unshouldered her rucksack and carefully eased out the wrapped statuette. She pulled off the foam packing, and Qah just stared with massive eyes. She said something, and reached out to touch the figure.
Then she looked at Carlotta, made a quick hand gesture and hurried off across the clearing. Seconds later she vanished behind the sheer waterfall.
Carlotta returned the relic to her rucksack, then strode off a little way, staring into the distance. I sensed that she wanted some time alone to contemplate the past, and the immediate future.
Selfishly, I looked ahead to when she had accomplished what she had come here to do, when she could close the book on this chapter of her life and look ahead.
I sat beside my rucksack, took out the water and drank while admiring the spectacular view, the jungle-cloaked mountains and the Ring of Tharssos arcing overhead. The scene was so exquisitely alien that my human emotions – my feelings for Carlotta, and my jealousy – seemed puny by comparison, insignificant and unworthy of the setting.
When I next glanced at Carlotta, I saw that she had removed herself even further from me and was smoking a cigarette. I found this surprising, as she’d never smoked before in my presence. The fool in me ascribed it to nerves – and then I caught of whiff of the smoke on the warm breeze.
In retrospect, I think she wanted me to learn the truth so that I might find more acceptable what she had to tell me.
She turned to me and stared.
I stood. “Carlotta...?”
I approached her, warily. I gestured, lamely, at the half-smoked cigarette. “The drug,” I murmured.