A Girl Called Badger

SIX



Evening approached. Wilson and Badger twisted out as much water as possible before wearing their damp clothes. Wilson checked his backpack. A few of the old papers he’d salvaged had been soaked into oblivion.

The lake was on the opposite side of the mountain from Station and the valley. As night darkened the forest, Badger found a path and they followed it to the perimeter. Two hunters escorted them through the pass and back to the village.

Father Reed waited above the rectory steps with a lantern.

“Wilson! You’ve been gone all day!”

“Sorry, sir. We got lost.”

Father Reed shook his head at the state of the two young people. He led them down the steps and into the bright corridors of the rectory.

“Come to the treatment room where it’s warm. We’ve been looking everywhere for you two. Come on, clothes off! Airman Chen, there are women’s clothes across the hall.”

She left to change. Reed helped Wilson to remove his outer clothing and pushed him to the exam table. Wilson gave his best explanation of what had happened as the priest connected him to the medical monitors. Badger returned wearing a gray sweater and brown skirt. The hunting knives looked out of place around her waist.

“And what’s this?” Reed unwrapped the blood-spotted cloth on Wilson’s arm. A line of messy lacerations stretched across the inner and outer forearm.

“Lizard bite,” said Wilson.

“A range lizard, from the spread and size of it. Move your fingers. Good. I’ll have to clean and dress this. The analyzer states you’re recovering from injected poison and bacterial infection at the wound sites. Plenty of rest and hot tea should clear that up quickly.”

Father Reed looked up to see Badger next to Wilson. She touched his hand.

“Airman Chen, are you injured?”

“No, sir.”

“Then gather your belongings and return to your quarters.”

“Can’t I stay here, sir?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Badger bit her upper lip. “Please?”

Reed shook his head and she ran from the room. Wilson listened to the inner door open and shut. Reed helped Wilson to the sink and prepared a sterilizer. He cleaned the wounds and bandaged Wilson’s arm.

“Apprentice, tell me something.”

“Ouch! Yes?”

“Explain what she was doing in the tunnels with you.”

Wilson touched the soft cloth over his bitten arm. “Saving my life.”

“Don’t be flippant, you’re in serious trouble. No person, not even the apprentice I’ve trained for a third of his life, goes into the tunnels without two things: my permission and a good reason. You’ve obviously seen why.”

“But–”

“To make it worse, you promised to stay away from her and you didn’t. You were supposed to work in Armory today and you didn’t. I’m considering the possibility that the locator was faulty yet again, and the pair of you were swimming at the lake. Now that I think about it, I’d feel much better if you were taking a day to relax. Being my apprentice is a hard job. That’s probably why I haven’t had one for years.”

“It’s not true!”

“Which one isn’t true?”

“We ended up at the lake–”

“I see.”

“Please. We were underground in Levels One, Two, and Three. Range lizards trapped us and we couldn’t return through the hatch. We had to swim through a cavern and it led to the lake.”

“I think this is actually a bite from a rock lizard,” said Father Reed. “They bask on rocks near the lake just like teenagers.”

“If that’s the case,” said Wilson, “Then where did I get these?”

He shoved the dripping papers at Reed. The priest spread them on the counter.

“Are these from my–”

Wilson sighed. “No, not from your library, Father.”

He rubbed his bandaged arm while Reed bent over the papers like a vulture. He moved his lips while reading. At last he rubbed his beard and straightened.

“I was wrong, Ensign, and I apologize. I’ve never seen this before and it makes for a very interesting read.”

“Apology accepted.”

“However, there are consequences for breaking the rules. You’re confined to these quarters for one week. I’m not punishing you as much as I’m giving your body and brain time to recover from what most would say is a bit of madness. I expect you to study and meet your responsibility to help me if anyone has medical complaints. Finally, if you meet with Airman Chen again, during or even after this week of rumination, you’ll be confined for one month.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I think it is. You’re a good student and hard worker. If it were any other person he’d be out on his ear.”



THE NEXT MORNING ROBB knocked on his door with breakfast. Wilson gave him a note for Badger and made him swear to keep it quiet. The teenager gleefully accepted another “secret mission.”

Wilson tried to remember what he’d read in the old documents. One of the old maps in the library had a listing for “Schriever AFB.” He indexed and and found the coordinates on a map. The location was in the plains and east of the sprawling decay of Springs.

Potato soup and a folded note from Badger came at mid-day. She wrote with a simple but precise hand.

Robb waited for Wilson to finish reading. “What’s in the note?”

“Are you still here?” Wilson looked around for something to throw.

“Don’t hit. You owe me big.”

“If you can’t be quiet I will,” said Wilson. “The old man will hear you.”

“His door is shut. Tell me what it says.”

Wilson wrote a few lines in reply and gave the note back to Robb.

“It says, and I quote: ‘I love you so much kissy kissy mwah mwah and hugs for Robbie.’”

“Eww, sick!”

In the afternoon his mother came to see him but didn’t stay long. She brought food but Wilson had little to say.

He tried to combine the strange information from the past with what he’d seen in the crumbling rooms underground. The caskets labeled “out of service” confused him. Xeno-environment? Hibernation? Wilson found the words in his dictionary. He wondered if some of the founders actually traveled to the stars. What use would these implants be?

Wrapped in his thoughts, he didn’t notice Mina at his door.

“Wilson … sorry to bother you.”

“It’s no problem, Mina.”

She thumped into the chair at his desk and twirled a strand of hair with the nervous energy of a young girl. The bruises on her face and legs were long gone.

“You’re looking very healthy these days,” said Wilson.

Mina nodded. “It’s because of you and Father Reed I feel better.”

“At least take some of the credit. How have you been?”

“Busy here and there.” She gave him a big smile. “Making clothes. I did this back in my village.”

“Excellent.”

She smoothed the skirt of her white dress. “Wilson ... I have news to tell.”

“Really?”

“Mast and I will be partner.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you, Mina.”

“But I have a big problem. Can you help me?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Mina inhaled and breathed out a big sigh. “My tribe has a rule. The father must say yes before his daughter does a ... festomatrimonio.”

“Wedding.”

“Yes. I want to see mi familia, and Mast can bring the bride price. I don’t think my village is so far away.”

“Mina, you’ll need to talk to Father Reed directly. I don’t think he’s in a mood to listen to me right now.”

She gave him a hug and left. Murmurs of a conversation between her and Reed echoed from down the hall.

The door to the entrance tunnel clicked shut and Reed appeared.

“Ensign, do you know a village by the name of ‘David?’”

Wilson sniffed. “Can’t say that I do.”

“Look through the off-map reports and check on it.”

Wilson walked to the library and typed in his passwords. He started with the most recent report and worked his way back. The reports were text logs and held transcripts of tribal contact, wildlife movement, or anything a hunter noticed that was strange and interesting.

After an hour, Wilson knocked on the Father Reed’s door.

“Nothing on a village called David,” he said.

“Try the old maps.”

Wilson pulled out the map book again. He spent a few minutes flipping through the pages then went back to the library screen.

Reed was still in his office.

“There’s an old place in the maps called Divide,” said Wilson. “A village was spotted there over a year ago.”

“Interesting,” said Reed. “I’ll ask the girl about landmarks in the area.”

Wilson lay on his bunk and couldn’t relax. No one came to visit him and there was no secret note with his evening meal.



HE WOKE AT HIS normal hour. Halfway through washing his face, Wilson remembered he was confined to his room. He stretched and did his morning exercises, then sat down to study a volume on herbal taxonomy.

Robb brought his breakfast but again no letter.

“Big meeting today,” whispered the boy. “All the big bosses.”

“She didn’t give you a note?”

Robb shook his head.

Soon after he left the entrance doors began the annoying music of opening and closing as members of the council entered. Their chatter in the hallway added to the noise. Wilson opened his door a crack and watched. A group of hunters entered, Badger among them, and Wilson slipped and bumped his head on the door. He peered out again and could have sworn she’d looked at him before turning the corner.

The inner door squealed again and Wilson heard the rapid tap-tap of footsteps. He leaned out and saw Mina and Mast holding hands and running down the corridor.

The discussion room was the only space for that many people. Wilson took off his shoes and jogged around the corner into the cramped toilet room. He put his ear to the wall and heard the rumble of voices.

“It’s a good point and let’s discuss it later,” said Father Reed. “Now that everyone is here I’ll start the meeting.”

Wilson pressed his cheek closer to the cold wall.

“The reason I’ve brought all of you here is to discuss an expedition to the east. There are two main reasons I feel a trip is necessary. Everyone has heard the good news by now of the planned partnership of Sergeant Masterson and our new guest, Mina.”

The room burst into applause.

“Yes, very good. It’s certainly a happy occasion and not unusual. However, because of the circumstances Mina would like to return to her family and let them know she is well. Since her village is only four days travel from here, I’m happy to grant Mina’s wish and will lead the expedition.”

“The second reason for a journey is not celebratory. One member of our village has a serious illness. I won’t go into details, but the situation is critical and we have to risk traveling through Springs.”

Murmurs vibrated the wall panel and Reed paused.

“The journey will take us one day east of Springs. Thanks to Ensign Wilson I have a location and machines that might be found there. Don’t think I haven’t asked myself the same questions that are going through your minds. Why should we brave the ruins? Why should we risk a fight with the violent eastern tribes? Because if we don’t find a cure this person will die. Not maybe, not possibly, but certainly. No one can see the future but the chance is good we’ll find what we need. Many of our machines were actually created at this place in the east.”

Reed cleared his throat. “Now. Because of the risk involved, only non-partnered individuals are on this list. Anyone nominated is allowed to drop out, no questions asked and no blame applied.”

The priest read aloud a list that included Badger and six hunters. Wilson’s throat tightened and the room became too hot.

“The moon will be full so we leave this afternoon,” said Reed. “Firearms will be issued to those with the training. All travelers should rest and prepare themselves. Is there anything else?”

A questioning sound came from Badger.

Father Reed cleared his throat. “Ensign Wilson has important–”

The door latch rattled and Wilson cursed. He left the toilet and went back to his room. After the meeting ended he watched everyone file through the inner door. Badger was flushed and didn’t look in his direction.

Wilson didn’t know what to do with himself. With a needle and thread he began to repair his overcoat.

Father Reed appeared in his doorway.

“I need to go with you,” said Wilson.

“You listened to the meeting?”

“What’s this about leaving me here? I can’t handle it alone. Everyone depends on us!”

Reed leaned against the door frame. “That’s exactly why you have to stay, Ensign, for everyone else. You’ll be the only priest and they’ll need your skills. Think of it as a chance to prove yourself.”

“But I don’t know enough about medicine or the systems!”

“You’re smarter than you think. You can figure out most of it, that’s the way things work sometimes. This journey has risk and I’m an old man, but not that old. I won’t go into cardiac arrest at the sight of some tattooed savage with a pointed stick.”

“Maybe that’s true,” said Wilson, his voice rising. “But I deserve to go. If I hadn’t risked my life to find those papers you’d be happy sitting back and watching her die!”

“No, you’re wrong. I wouldn’t have been happy about it,” said Reed. “I care about the lives of each and every person here. Your right to go must balance with our responsibility to the village.”

Wilson played with a loose thread in his blanket while Reed stared at him.

“Will you swear to do what’s best and stay here?”

“No,” said Wilson. “I’m done swearing oaths.”



TWO GUARDS HAD BEEN posted outside his room. The door wasn’t locked but Wilson stayed inside anyway.

He lay on his bunk trying to meditate without the trick. He wanted to see if just breathing without the images and verses would work. It didn’t and his mind wandered. He wrote down the verses Badger had taught him underground.

Reed hadn’t found out about the old pistol yet. Wilson cleaned the weapon and hid it behind a ventilation grate.

A small set of weights lay under the bed and Wilson worked his muscles past the point of exhaustion. He still couldn’t lift much with his left arm because of the bite. He washed his hair and face in the basin and changed clothes. An apple hidden behind a row of books was an afternoon snack.

The text on herbal medicine lay under his fingers but he read the same sentences over and over.

In the evening, he heard voices in the corridor. Robb came in with food and a note and Wilson read it standing up.



Will, don’t worry about me. I’ll talk to Reed on the trail and maybe I can change his mind. I miss you so much!

See you soon,

––Kira



“You really stepped in it this time,” said Robb. “What are you gonna do?”

Wilson shrugged. “I guess I have to stay.”

He wrote on the back of the note: Keep talking the guards can hear.

Robb squinted. “Oh, everybody’s talking about it. Not me, of course. I’m your pal.”

“Of course! Old buddy, old pal,” said Wilson.

Get food and water as much as you can

“I know all your secrets, but those are between me and you and the wall. But everybody else is just gassing away.”

“Sure,” said Wilson.

Don’t tell anyone

“I ... uh ... I tell everyone you’re a stand-up guy. You’d do anything for a friend,” said Robb.

Don’t get caught

“You’re always teaching me new things I’d never even thought about.”

Take supplies to north corral

“You’re a good kid,” said Wilson. “Always there with a hand when I need it.”

“It’s not easy, you know. My dad always has work for me, too.”

“I know. Thanks for the food and I’ll see you soon.”

Wilson went to the map display in Reed’s office and watched the glowing dots creep toward the perimeter.



HE KNEW THE GENERAL route of travel but went over the scouting reports again and sketched his own map.

The last expedition to Springs had been three years ago and few details were available on Mina’s village. The scout––Hausen’s oldest boy––described a well-protected settlement of three hundred or more with fields of beans, corn, and squash. Wilson memorized landmarks and open areas with little cover. It would be safer to travel at night like the expedition. He wrapped his map and notes in leather.

At a table and two chairs set up in the corridor, the guards talked in low voices.

“How are you men today?” Wilson asked.

“It’s a bad situation, Ensign,” said the tallest. “We didn’t want to say anything while Father Reed was here.”

“Why couldn’t you go? He could have stayed here,” said the other guard.

“I can’t say what’s in his mind, but you’re right, I could have taken his place. I speak the dialect and I know enough about the old machines.”

“Well, I guess Father Reed knows what he’s doing. Still, it’s been the talk of the village.”

“I’m sure it would be.”



AN HOUR LATER ROBB brought drinks for the guards. He came into Wilson’s room and closed the door behind him.

“So ... I got what you wanted,” he said.

“Left in the right place?”

“Yeah. Do you need me for anything else? It was a long walk and I’m tired.”

“Just a minute.” Wilson took out the calendar he’d found underground. He’d put a protective hemp cover over it. “You can keep this.”

Robb held the calendar with two fingers, like it was covered in sheep manure. “Pictures of cats?”

“It’s a conversation piece. Girls love anything small and fuzzy.”

“No, it’s stupid. Bring me something better than this.”

“Okay, I promise.”

“I know something about calendars,” said Robb. “Want to hear?”

“No.”

“With a calendar your days are numbered.”

“Get out of here before you say something smart.”

Wilson went to his bunk but couldn’t sleep. He filled his pack with useful items. If he changed into his hunting leathers someone might get suspicious. He rolled them into a bundle with extra moccasins and tied it with a length of rope. A large package of painkillers and his pistol and knives also went into the pack. For the rest of the supplies he depended on Robb.

The guards changed a few hours later. The expedition had been traveling for eight hours, and off-map for six.

Wilson filled his hot water container. He’d been soaking valerian root for hours in the treatment room. He mixed the valerian with chamomile and hot water and let the mixture brew. He thought honey might cover some of the taste and added a spoonful. He served two large cups of this ‘herbal tea’ to the guards along with pillows and blankets from Reed’s quarters. Over an hour later the cups were empty and the two were fast asleep on the floor.

He rolled extra shirts and lumped them under his blanket. He thought it might fool the guards for a few minutes at least. With pack in hand he stepped over the sleeping men and placed a letter on the table.

Wilson went to the entrance tunnel but heard the latch turn on the outer door. With no time to get back to his bunk, he tossed his pack into the treatment room.

The inner door opened and his mother stepped in with a groaning Brownie. The pregnant woman wore only a nightdress and overcoat.

“What happened?” asked Wilson, his stomach a dull pit.

His mother held Brownie under the arms. “Happening? A baby is happening. Don’t worry Brownie, it’s not much farther.”

“Wait,” Brownie said. She grimaced, her face streaked with sweat.

Wilson and his mother waited for the contraction to pass. The dozing guards were only a few feet away. Could he run for it? Wilson wondered how much could the guards could sleep through. He followed the two women into the treatment room.

“When did this start? How long has this been going on?”

“Listen, Cubbie, hold your questions. I’ve delivered more babies than you have teeth in your head.”

Wilson spread his hands. “Do you want me to help or not? I’m happy to leave.”

“It’s not enough that Father Reed is gone and Brownie’s man is out on night duty,” said his mother. “No, I have to deal with a teenage son.”

Brownie groaned. “Stop fighting!”

Wilson covered the exam table with a blanket and they helped Brownie lay on top. He pressed a button and the upper half of the table elevated slightly.

“When did the contractions start?”

“Maybe an hour ago,” said Brownie. “Here’s another one–”

She clenched her teeth. Wilson counted the seconds until her face relaxed.

“One minute,” he said. His mother was searching the cabinets. “What are you looking for?”

“A clean cloth.”

“In cabinet four.” He paused and looked at Brownie. “This baby is coming soon.”

“What a genius I raised,” said his mother and brought a pile of white towels. She bent and spread Brownie’s legs and laid most of the cloth underneath. “You’re still too young to see this. Hook her up to the machines.”

Wilson unspooled the cables and contact discs and attached them to Brownie’s shoulders and sides. He connected an extra three to her abdomen and wrapped her arm with a membrane. His mother had removed Brownie’s underwear and peered between her legs.

Brownie shouted in pain, then panted for breath.

“Can you … give me … painkiller?”

“How long?” Wilson asked his mother.

“Minutes,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Brownie, there’s not enough time for painkiller. Just concentrate on breathing.”

Wilson found a clean apron and washed his hands with sterilizer.

“Wash up, mother, then hold her hands,” he said.

“If that’s what you want.”

He placed a small pair of scissors, a warm, damp towel, and a few pieces of string on top of a white cloth. Wilson’s throat tightened and his face burned thinking about the next steps. He looked between Brownie’s legs and it was just like the manuals––fierce, red and hairy. He rubbed sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“She’s starting to crown,” said his mother. “Brownie, push with the contractions!”

His mother held her hands and Brownie screamed. After a few pushes, the head crowned further and slid out. Wilson supported it with his hands as the shoulders rotated.

“More!”

With the next contraction Brownie screamed again and the baby slipped out in a gout of blood. Wilson wrapped it in a warm cloth. He wiped the nose and mouth then flicked and pinched its feet. The baby made a nasty face and squalled. Wilson took string and tied the cord in two places, then used the small scissors to cut between them.

“You can hold her,” he said, and handed the baby to Brownie.

“My beautiful baby,” she cooed.

Wilson remembered he had to deliver the next stage. He massaged the lower part of Brownie’s abdomen and a minute later more blood and the dark red placenta slid out. He wrapped this up and set it aside, then placed clean cloth underneath Brownie.

The infant’s eyes were wide and active. They rolled and looked at everything in the room.

“That was the easy part,” said his mother. “Now you have to worry about them the rest of your life.”

“What’s her name?” asked Wilson.

“June,” said Brownie.

Wilson put a blanket over her and cleaned up the red circles of blood on the floor. He put everything including his apron into a basket, then attached monitor wires to the baby. All the readings on the display screen looked normal.

“Both Brownie and June have very healthy vital signs. Now mother ... I have to go.”

“Yes,” she said and touched the baby’s tiny nose with her pinky.

He lifted his pack and roll of clothing. “You don’t understand. I’m leaving.”

She stared at Wilson. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“ I can’t just sit around here waiting for Reed to come back. If anything happened to her––I mean, if anything happened to the expedition, I couldn’t live with myself.”

She pulled a bundle of cloth from her bag. “I had a feeling about that. I made these for you, but you didn’t go.”

Inside the bundle were two leather bracers, smooth and the color of walnut.

“I didn’t have time to decorate them. They go over your arms and tie at the bottom.”

“Thank you.”

She hugged him tight. “Whatever you do, just come back in one piece.”

“At least one, I promise.”

The guards were leaning against the corridor outside the treatment room. They stepped in front of Wilson.

“We figured there was something in that tea,” said the tallest.

Wilson nodded. “That’s right, and I’m sorry.”

“You’re planning to leave, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but a baby got in the way. I’ll go back to my room now.”

“Wait,” said the other guard. “We’re not going to stop you. It looks like you could have left without helping Brownie. We know we can’t keep you forever, and anyway, we both hate sitting around doing nothing.”

“So–”

“So lock us in your room. We’ll come up with a story before morning.”



INSTEAD OF LEAVING THROUGH the entrance Wilson decided to use an abandoned tunnel.

He’d learned about the passage and a few others last summer, when a pair of teenage lovers had fled into them for an afternoon and caused a minor uproar. It wasn’t the tryst that had worried Father Reed––it was the absence from the tracking screens. Afterwards, the priest had unrolled the old paper maps and shown them to Wilson.

Wilson cleared heavy wooden boxes from the back of an old storeroom. In the wall was a circular hatch, dull and tarnished black with age. Wilson pried it open with a crowbar and crawled into a narrow stone tunnel. He gripped a lantern in one hand and batted at cobwebs with the other.



Friends,

I know you think I’m abandoning my duty. Station is my home and I wish things had turned out differently. I won’t say I didn’t have a choice because that’s not true. This was the best in a range of bad choices.



Wilson came to an intersection in the stone and earth tunnel. He turned left and continued crawling on his hands and knees. He thought about his friends, fresh meals, and warm shelter. Outside the valley he would have none of that.



As you know, Airman Chen has a rare medical condition. She will die without treatment.



A black spider as big as his hand jumped onto the lantern. Wilson jerked in reflex and smashed the glass and metal cylinder against the tunnel wall. Everything turned black.



The machines in Station will continue to work while I’m traveling. I’ve checked and re-checked everything. If anything happens, the section leaders and my mother have enough knowledge and experience to handle it.



Excuses for turning back leaped through his mind like that disgusting spider. Wilson sighed and slowed his breathing. He spoke the night-sight poem and the tunnel brightened to gray twilight.



I know my choice looks careless. But I can’t live without her, and I can’t accept the feeling that something might go wrong.

––Wilson



He opened a hatch near the Tombs and crawled out. The night-sight had changed the dark heavens to a silvery dome and turned the peaks around the valley to faint charcoal sketches.

He took a back route to the corral and gave the populated center of the village a wide space. A few lanterns swayed through the plaza on late social calls. The laughter of a pair of guards carried on the breeze as Wilson crept through fruit trees and herb gardens.

He half-wished that someone would see him, that hands would reach from the dark and pull him back to his duty. He numbly kicked away those thoughts and at a safe distance began to jog.

Blackie barked once when he arrived at the corral. Wilson knocked softly on the door of the cabin and Alfie stuck his head out.

“What? Hey, Wilson.”

“Did Robb leave anything for me?”

“It’s right here.”

Alfie shut the door behind him. Wilson unwrapped the hunting leathers and wore them over his normal clothes. He strapped his knives and pistol around his waist and double-checked the pistol’s hammer––still over the empty chamber. Next he tied on the bracers from his mother. Thick, cured leather covered both forearms from wrist to elbow.

The pack from Robb contained dried meat, corn bread, three pouches of pemmican, two skins of spruce tea, a pouch of dried fruit, a fire-sparker, and a pair of candles. Wilson transferred the items from his small pack to the large one. A bearskin lay on the floor next to the large pack. Wilson rolled it together with the rest of his clothes and a wool blanket, tying the bundle with rope. He secured this to the top of the large pack with a few tight loops.

“Alfie, I’ll need to borrow your crossbow.”

“But I’ll get in trouble!”

“Go to Armory tomorrow and tell Hausen I borrowed it. If he gives you problems tell my mother. Also, don’t tell anyone what Robb did.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Wilson put five crossbow bolts in the pack and five in his belt. He put his arms through the straps of the pack and took the crossbow from Alfie.

“Good luck,” said the boy.

Wilson put his hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “Thanks. Just remember one thing––don’t ever do anything this stupid when you grow up.”