Dies the Fire

Not bad, he thought critically, doing a few twists and deep knee bends, flexing his hands and swinging his arms, his enthusiasm growing.

Yeah! Way lighter than the field gear I carried in the Gulf. Better distributed, too; not bad at all, once I get used to the way it affects my balance. Bitchin' uncomfortable, though, and no two ways about it. I can feel the sweat starting even after sundown, and Christ Jesus, the thought of an itch in this stuff… but against an unarmored man, you'd be like a tank.

"The helmet, the helmet!" Astrid said, and a bunch of the youngsters took it up.

He took it from her and settled it on his head, fastening the chinstrap. The nasal bar bisected his view, and he found himself unconsciously shifting his head slightly back and forth to keep his peripheral vision up.

Another thing to get used to.

The bear head mounted on top didn't seem to make any difference, or add any real weight. It wouldn't matter in a fight, although the thing was going to look pretty tattered if a couple of edged weapons went through on their way to the metal beneath. He could always switch back to the one he already had after a couple of days.

"And we made the rest of the hide up into a cloak, for colder weather," Astrid said proudly.

At her urging he swung the heavy length of ci

Shit, I must look like a carnivorous Carmen Miranda, he thought. It's a good thing I can't see myself-

Eric and Josh walked up with a full-length mirror from one of the houses. With a flourish they set it down beside the fire, and then he could see himself. For a long minute he gaped, hearing a murmur from all around him as the. Bearkillers took it in, with some townies who'd been hanging around as well.

I look like something off the cover of one of Astrid's god-damned books! he thought. The words "no fucking way" trembled on his lips.

Astrid's face was shining. Suddenly she threw her fists in the air and cried: "All hail to Lord Bear!"

His own shout of revulsion was buried in the chorus as everyone else took it up-except for Eric, who'd actually fallen flat laughing and who lay helplessly hugging himself as he rolled on the ground.

That left Havel grinding his teeth in fury. After a moment, he realized what bothered him more: better than half the spectators weren't laughing at all. In fact, they were taking it just as seriously as Astrid.

Christ Jesus, he thought, stomach sinking. The kid's making a hero-shaped hole and the entire bunch of them are shoving me into it.

"So, does this count as a date?" Signe said. "Here we are, alone at last."

Startled, Havel looked over at her. They were side-by-side on the seat of the wagon, and he was suddenly conscious of the slight summery smell of her, clean sweat and woman.

And she's definitely a woman, he thought, with a wry smile. There's never a bad time to stop and discuss your feelings.

"Ummm… I hadn't actually thought of it that way," he said cautiously. "For one thing, your brother and Pam are under the tarp right behind us, so we're not really alone."

"Oh, don't mind him," she said. "He can't see a thing."

Muffled gagging and retching sounds came from beneath the tarpaulin, then a yelp, as if someone had kicked someone in the shin. Havel felt a sudden impulse to grin enormously. He fought it down, looking around at the long empty stretch of road. They were alone; two horses drawing the wagon, and a pair hitched to the rear… as tempting a target as they could arrange.

Easy pickings, the arrangement said. Come and get it!

It wasn't the sort of trick he'd have pulled out in the hot-and-dirty places the Corps had sent him. Far too blatant and obvious.

Item: Things are different now. No guns and not many good archers yet. You have to get close to someone to hurt them. Item: Odds are these are amateur bandits, just learning the trade, the way I'm learning how to use a sword or shoot a bow.

For a moment he felt an enormous familiar anger at whoever or whatever had done this to his country, to his world, and then it passed away. If he ever had a chance to do anything about it… but until then, put it away.

'Cause those who can't put it away are going to die real soon and never get a chance to do anything about it.

Instead he spoke, his voice light: "That's flattering, Signe, but let's take a rain check. After this is over, maybe? In the meantime, we'd better concentrate on business."

She made a pout and flipped the reins over the horse's back. "Yes, O Lord Bear. Business."

"Now that's a low blow. And yeah, business."

You know, this is business, he realized. Literally. We've dealt with bandits before, and this is on our way, but we've actually been hired to do it.

They went forward at a fast walk amid the clatter and hollow clop of hooves and the creaking of the wagon's fabric. He pulled a strip of jerky from a pocket and began gnawing on it as he watched their surroundings; it tasted like salty cardboard, but it was food.

The land was tending upward, with more grass and less sagebrush as they climbed into a belt of higher rainfall, but not much cultivation yet-it would be another day's travel until they were into wheat country. Before the Change this had been ranching territory, and seasonal grazing at that-virtually nobody actually lived here. Occasionally they passed an abandoned vehicle; once they sped up as a gagging smell told them someone, or several someones, had died inside a four-door sedan flipped upside down.

They passed a few bodies beside the road as well, but birds and coyotes and insects had taken most of the flesh there, leaving only scraps of tendon and wisps of hair blowing in the warm dry wind.

"How could anyone do that?" Signe asked. "Just sit and die?"

Havel shrugged. "Easy," he said, and waved a hand around them at the immense silence and the great blue bowl of the sky.

"It's bigger now. Physically bigger."

"Bigger?" Signe said. "Quieter, yes, but bigger?"

"Yeah, for all practical purposes. I've felt it before, backpacking into real wilderness, the deep empty country. The world gets bigger. OK, now it's like that everywhere: This was pretty thinly settled country before the Change, but that was when you could do thirty miles in an hour even on bad dirt roads. Bam, the Change hits, and suddenly thirty miles, that's two, three days' walk for someone not used to hiking-if you're lucky. Suddenly every distance is fifty, sixty times bigger, or more, and the fastest way to carry a message is feet."

"That never made us sit down and die of fright," Signe said stubbornly.

You know, I really like this girl, Havel thought. She doesn't just accept anything I say.

He nodded. "Yeah, but I wasn't taken by surprise when I went on vacation, and I'm used to being on my own in remote places. Some townie type, say someone from a big city like Seattle or even Spokane, they'd be just as likely to wait a long time for someone to drive by and rescue them as to get going right away. It would even be the sensible thing to do-how could they know things were screwed up worldwide? A lot would die of exposure; it was down below freezing here at night right after the Change. And there aren't even any surface streams around here, and try going twenty-four hours without water. Wait too long and you'll be too weak to move, or you'll collapse on the way."