Ammonite

“How long were you sick?”

“Three days. I was weak much longer.”

Marghe wanted to reach out and take the Mirror’s hand, something, but Lu Wai had them both clenched around her scarf, remembering. “If I got it, ”she asked her gently, “what would you advise?”

The Mirror looked at Marghe speculatively. “I saw the vaccine specs; it’s your basic artificial antigen, but weaker than killed virus, because it’s not very specific. The adjuvants should make up for that. It should work.”

“But just suppose it doesn’t.”

“Complications are almost always respiratory. Make sure you’re warm and dry, move your arms around a bit, give your lungs a chance to pump out any phlegm that might collect. Drink lots of fluids. Water’s best, but boil it. Dap would be okay because of that, but remember it’s a stimulant–not a very good idea when your body’s already weak. Eat lots of fruit and vegetables if you can get them. Commonsense precautions.”

Marghe nodded her thanks, but the Mirror was not finished.

“If anything happens, if you lose your pills, or it doesn’t work, get back to Port Central, to a medic. Don’t mess with it. That’s the best advice I can give you.”

“Kris flies!” Letitia called, pointing.

Marghe pulled her scarf back up and tightened the knot. She breathed steadily through her nose, in and out, and followed Letitia’s finger. They were dark on the horizon, like smoke. She breathed more deeply.

Lu Wai squatted next to her and unfastened her medical roll. “Are you allergic to any of the antihistamines or bronchiodilators?”

“No.” She watched the swarm grow bigger.

The Mirror nodded, satisfied. “I’ve never heard of a swarm attacking without cause, but there’s always a first time. If they come close, curl up and expose as little of yourself as you can. And try not to panic.”

“I won’t.”

Letitia had already altered course to the shortest route off the olla carpet, but the kris flies were getting closer. Marghe hunched down and concentrated on her breathing. If she did get stung, she was confident she could neutralize the worst of the venom herself, or at least keep the effects localized. She closed her eyes and listened. A thousand, a hundred thousand pairs of wings beat the air, whisking it to a whining froth that blew into her ears and made her throat itch. It sounded wrong, and Marghe realized she had been expecting the drone of hornets or bees. The volume did not increase. She raised her head cautiously.

The swarm poured by almost close enough to touch, undulating and shimmering in the diffuse light like a silk scarf in the wind, gold, green, and black. The colors did not trigger Earth‑learned fears; they were beautiful. All four women watched the swarm pass over the horizon, and were quiet a long time afterward.

The early morning sky was mother‑of‑pearl; in its light, the chevrons and gray medic flashes on Lu Wai’s shoulders shone almost silver as the Mirror pointed a free hand westward. “Look over there.”

At first Marghe could see nothing different; then the grass changed from yellowish green to black. Letitia put down her schematic and clambered up into the front. “The blasted heath,” she said. They watched the black plain spread out to their left like a pool of charcoal dust.

Marghe leaned out to take a closer look. She thought she saw fresh green shoots pushing through the withered remains. “I’d like to go in closer.”

“Not advisable,” Letitia said, “at least in the sled. It’s not a good idea on foot either, unless you’re with someone who knows about burnstone.”

Burnstone could smolder under the ground for years before sighing into ash. Company had triggered several serious burns before they had learned to listen to the indigenes and avoid these unstable areas.

“This is the big one,” Letitia said. “The one that got SEC’s knickers in a twist.”

Marghe nodded. The Jink and Oriyest v. Companycase. “I wonder what happened to the owners.”

Letitia leaned against the waist‑high siding of the sled and watched the ruined grass flow beneath them. “Nobody owns this land,” she said.

“For now, the journey women are letting Jink and Oriyest use some land to the north and west,” Lu Wai said. “Not for from here.”

“If it’s not far, I’d like to visit.”

Marghe felt the women in the sled tense. Letitia and Lu Wai almost looked at each other but did not, and in the back of the sled, Ude sat up. No one said anything.

“What have I said wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just that they’ll be busy right now, getting in their flock,” Lu Wai said easily, without taking her eyes from the horizon.

Letitia nodded. “We’d waste a day or two tracking them down, and we need to get these cables laid and the relay in place before the weather turns. You’re operating under a tight schedule, too.”

Marghe looked at them one at a time. They had closed ranks against her, but why? What was going on? “Are you saying you refuse to take me to find Jink and Oriyest?”

“No,” Letitia said, “just that we’d search for days and more than likely not find them.”

Which meant the same thing, Marghe thought bitterly. If they did not want her to meet Jink and Oriyest, there was nothing she could do. She was angry, and did not bother to hide it. “I don’t know why you don’t want me to find them, but I’m not stupid enough to waste my time trying to force you. Perhaps on my way back.”

She pushed her way past Letitia and stared out across the burn. A faint speck hovered over the western horizon: a herd bird. Marghe watched it for a long time, feeling like an outsider again.

The wind was strong, driving tall, sail‑heavy clouds across the gray sky. Lu Wai and Ude were both asleep, and Letitia was making notes on her wristcom.

Marghe held the sled’s stick in both hands. In the west water flashed silver, surrounded by large dark shapes. She eased the stick left and the sled veered. Letitia looked up.

“Ah. The river Ho.”

Marghe ignored her. She was still angry.

“The people around here call those tall things skelter trees. When you get nearer, you’ll see why.” She must have sensed Marghe’s hostility, and went back to her calculations.

The Ho was broad and flat but the banks were steep. Long‑fronded water plants trailed downstream like bony green fingers. Something leapt into the water with a plop, Marghe slowed the sled to an easy glide and cruised up to a skelter tree. It was tall, over fifty feet, and she could see where it got its name: branches of uniform thickness grew in a spiral up and around the charcoal black trunk, like a helter‑skelter. The single‑fingered leaves were arranged symmetrically along both sides of the branches and were broad as Marghe’s outstretched hand, the delicate green of lentil sprouts. They hardly moved in the wind. She brought the sled to a hovering standstill and reached up to touch one.

Something shrieked and chittered, shaking the branch until the leaves shivered.

“It might be a wirrel,” Letitia said. “I think they live in these trees. They’re small, but they’ve been known to bite.”

Marghe wondered if Letitia was waiting to see if the SEC rep wanted to touch an alien leaf badly enough to risk a bite from an equally alien animal. Well, Letitia would be disappointed; there were other trees, and she would not always have an audience. She backed up the sled.

“The river winds a bit, but it runs all the way to Holme Valley,” Letitia said. “If you want to see lots of wildlife, just follow the bank.”

“No.” Lu Wai was awake and looking at the sky. “That would add hours to our journey, and I don’t like the look of these clouds.” She clambered into the front and gestured Marghe aside. “I’ll take the stick. Things are going to get rough.”

Clouds gathered on the northeastern horizon, greasy and heavy, an army wearing unpolished mail. Marghe relinquished the controls. Lu Wai slammed the stick as far forward as it would go. Marghe lurched and had to cling on. Once again she felt like an outsider, a stranger who did not know what was happening, what to expect.