Purge of Prometheus

remembered the feel of his strong arms around her back, pulling her body toward his. His warm breath had danced across her lips as they leaned into one another, her body melting into his strong embrace. Their lips had met and she had hungrily leaned in for more as explosions of pleasure rippled down her spine. Though she knew she had to leave him soon, she had held tightly to the sides of his face as they kissed, their tongues probing on another’s mouth first playfully, then passionately. She had wanted more, even then, but…

Wake up and look, the Voice yelled, the strength of its words striking her awake better than any physical blow.

Keryn felt the memory fade into her subconscious again as the aches of her body slowly reemerged. Looking ahead, her eyes grew wide. After all this time, she had finally found the stream again. Though the freezing winter had killed the jungle and dumped feet of snow over all surfaces, the stream still bubbled happily across her path, unfrozen from the arctic winds. Glancing upstream, she watched the waterfall slowly dump its contents into the pool below. The waterfall no longer roared as water rolled over its edge. Instead, the water fell in swollen droplets, as though the surface of the water itself had congealed in the cold, revealing a small erosion-worn cavern behind the once proud waterfall. Remembering her painful splash into the water, Keryn leaned forward and pushed on the surface of the water. The tension remained buoyant and strong, if not a little more solid than she remembered. The memory of her first encounter with the stream also reminded her of something else: Penchant had found a way to cross just a little ways downstream. Turning to her right, she walked down the stream just a short distance until she found the large rocks jutting from the water’s surface.

Keryn walked gingerly over the impromptu bridge and climbed up the short cliff face. With a higher vantage point, she was able to watch the waterfall dump its contents slowly into the gathering pool below. Between the waterfall and her location, however, something else caught her eye. Protruding from the snow was a dirty brown object, standing out clearly in the continual twilight against the pristine white snow. She walked down the sloped ground as she approached the object, silently swearing at her stiff joints. Keryn reached the object and bent down, picking up the surprisingly lightweight item in her hand. Holding it up in examination, her face fell. She twisted the large white feather in her hand, looking at the dried brown blood that coated its surface.

Tossing the feather to the side, Keryn dropped to her knees and started digging through the snow. Though the cold bit at her fingers and burned her skin, she continued digging, exposing first an arm, then a torso. She pushed the snow free in heaps, clearing away the drift on both legs and around the wings. Dreading the inevitable, Keryn cleared away the snow that had collected over the golden hair and face. Stumbling away from the body, Keryn collapsed in the snow and covered her mouth, suppressing the cry of anguish she wanted to let out. Lying uncovered and broken on the rocks near the stream, Cerise’s body rested where it had fallen, undisturbed over the past two weeks.

One wing lay at an odd angle, the thin bone shattered from the collision with the stone surface. One leg and part of Cerise’s skull had suffered a similar fate. The other wing was missing, severed cleanly near the back. The rest of her torso was peppered with holes of varying size; gunshot wounds that had torn through her body. The dark, dried blood surrounded her body and soaked into the bag on her hip. Keryn’s imagination told her the tale. The Terrans fighters had gone off in search of survivors. Wherever Cerise had been, she was caught unaware of the danger and had flown away, skimming the treetops in an attempt not to be seen. But white against the deeply dark jungle, she had been easy to spot. The fighter had opened fire on her; bullets tearing through her soft flesh and severing her wing. Keryn could see her spiraling out of control, her body ripping through the tree limbs before slamming into the rocks below, her fingertips dipping into the cool waters of the stream. Shot, bleeding, broken. Cerise had struggled, broken on the rocks, trying to gasp for air through lungs that had been pierced by both gunfire and broken ribs. Alone, scared, and in the darkness, Cerise had died on these rocks. Keryn cried uncontrollably as the scene played out in her mind.

The Voice let the silence build for a while, allowing Keryn to cry herself dry, before speaking. We need to go, it said comfortingly. We can’t stay here.

In her mind, Keryn could feel the Voice tugging, wanting to say more. “Just say it,” she said, feeling defeated.

We need her pants and bag, it said, devoid of the emotions that Keryn felt welling inside of her. It was true that she and the Voice were two very different people. Keryn wished she could stare introspectively, letting the Voice see her displeasure.

Your own pants are still soaked from the trip through the sewers, it said, explaining. Hers are treated, which means that they’re relatively waterproof and a lot warmer than your thin pants. And if she has any food in her bag, you’ll need it to keep up your strength.

Keryn sat, unhappy with the advice but knowing the truth of the Voice’s words. Still, she couldn’t escape a simple realization: if Cerise was dead, what hope was there that the Cair Ilmun was still intact?

Reaching forward, she unhooked the bag from Cerise’s hip. She twisted the latch, which was resistant after being frozen for so long. Peering inside, Keryn’s heart leapt in her chest. She pulled free a grain bar and, unwrapping it, reveling in the nutty flavors as she took a bite. The first bit of real food in two weeks protested in her empty stomach, but didn’t stop her from ravenously finishing the food. Shifting aside the remaining grain bars, Keryn discovered the first aid kit that all members of the team traditionally carried. Near the bottom of the bag, Keryn paused as her fingertips brushed against a filmy material, its thick mesh feeling too good to be true. Turning the bag upside down, she dumped out the contents. The food and first aid kit tumbled into the snow, followed by a flowing silver cloth, which floated to the ground. Grabbing it before it could reach the snowy surface, Keryn pulled the deep space blanket to her chest in elation, her concerns and mourning temporarily forgotten as her basic need for survival overrode her worries. Used for deep space travel where temperatures inside cabins would plummet while crews attempted to conserve fuel, the blankets were thin and lithe, easily packet into most any container, but capable of keeping crewmen warm in almost any temperatures. To Keryn, it was her personal savior.

I think it’s time we went to sleep, the Voice said, echoing her own sentiments.

Solemnly removing Cerise’s hide pants, Keryn pushed the snow back over her teammate so that she wouldn’t be found by any Terran patrols. Turning toward the waterfall, Keryn skirted around the outside of the pond, cautiously moving across the slippery stones, until she was able to climb into the exposed cavern behind the falls. She stripped free of her pants, donning the warmer hide pair, and collapsed into the warm blanket. With it enveloping her like a glove, Keryn hardly noticed the discomfort of lying on the hard, stone ground before she was sound asleep.

Keryn awoke more refreshed than what she had in many months, but unsure of how long she slept or whether the darkness around her was day or night. Stretching, she felt the stiffness that had settled over her body from sleeping on the hard rocks. Her neck ached and her shoulders were sore, but she reveled in the pain, knowing how much better her body felt as a whole. Donning the waterproof boots once more, she packed her supplies back into the pack and slung it over her head and shoulder, letting it droop at her waist. Eating a quick breakfast consisting of a grain bar, she stepped out of the overhead cover, feeling more confident than she had since the Terran arrival. Still, she couldn’t shake the inevitable feeling that continuing her quest was a waste of time.

“Why even keep searching for the ship?” Keryn asked to the empty air, knowing that the Voice was listening. As she took another bite of food, the weight of her mission weighed heavily on her shoulders. “Cerise is dead, which means McLaughlin was left alone. He wouldn’t have survived without treatments. So can I expect the Cair Ilmun to still be intact as well?”

Would you be able to return to Miller’s Glen without knowing, the Voice asked, sounding as though it were standing beside her. The question struck a chord within Keryn. Your own doubts would tear you apart if you don’t finish here with definitive proof one way or the other.

Satisfied and refreshed, Keryn set off through the snow, heading toward the answer to her burning question: did they still have a way off this planet? The trek through the snow seemed easier today, her body stronger and warmer, making her strides more powerful. After only a half hour of walking, Keryn started to recognize landmarks. A jutting stone that she had passed upon their arrival protruded from the snow on her left. A twisted tree that was full of leave two weeks ago still drooped over the trail, its now barren fingers reaching toward her hair. Keryn slowed her pace and pulled out her pistol, knowing that the grotto lay not much further ahead. Crouched and moving cautiously, she moved up to the edge of the clearing and peered through the darkness.