Wasteland of flint

all.

'You're sure this will get rid of them properly?' She asked in a sly tone, peering over the edge of the outcropping. 'They won't leave traces behind?'

The sally gained her not so much as a grunt. Hummingbird climbed back toward the cave. Gretchen stared after him for a moment before shrugging and picking up the tools scattered at the foot of the crevice where the relay had been. As she did so, Anderssen made sure to tuck the comm core of the relay into a pocket of her harness. What is an antenna, she mused, stowing the wrenches and cutting blades, but a long bight of metal? You can find one of those anywhere these days.

Hands on her hips, Gretchen found her best glower rendered ineffective by the goggles, mask and rebreather hiding her face. 'Two sets of eyes are better than one, crow. I am trained to observe, to find the hidden and sift patterns from chaos. Both of us can watch from the tunnel mouth.'

'No.' Hummingbird had removed his djellaba and kaffiyeh – they were of little use inside the cave – leaving him a short, stocky, thick-bodied tree stump of a man clad in scuffed black and gray. 'You do not know how to be quiet and there is a presence – a hostile presence – in the cave which was only peripherally aware of me. We might as well throw a grenade in, as put you on watch.'

He tried to step past into the tunnel, but Gretchen moved to block the opening. 'I can be as quiet and as patient as you, master crow. Try me and see.'

'Sitting quietly is not enough,' he replied. 'You were quick to see how I placed the debris from the crash – but can you do the same with yourself? Such things take training and time!'

Gretchen did not move and her mouth tightened fractionally. Hummingbird watched her with his flat green eyes, much as a snake might watch a plump bird.

'Show me,' she retorted. 'I learn quickly. Think of what a boon I'd prove, if I could keep my own presence from being felt on this world – then you wouldn't have to clean up after me.'

His head jerked sharply and Hummingbird turned away from the filament screen. 'Prove you can listen without interruption,' he said, stepping into the outer doorway. The screen behind him glowed hot with the afternoon sun. 'Stand there, in the middle of this space. Let yourself become at ease. Be silent. Put all noise and clamor from your mind.'

Though taken aback by his changing mood, Gretchen did as he said. She stood silently, trying to dispel the tension in her back, shoulders and legs by will alone. After a hundred beats of her heart, she started to breathe heavily and her legs felt like iron bars, tight and unyielding. A tiny hiss of anger escaped her lips and she grimaced, fighting to relax. Her mind was astir with wild phantasms and urgent thoughts. Be silent! Berating herself did no good.

Hummingbird stepped away from the opening, brow furrowed. Without speaking, he moved to her side. Thick fingers touched the base of her spine, her elbow, the left knee. Grudgingly, she followed his lead and shifted her feet, settling her back, changing the line of her arm. The difference in her body was shockingly immediate. Exhaustion fell away and she coughed, feeling tension ebb from her chest. The tightness in her legs faded, leaving her with only a memory of soreness. Gretchen started to exclaim, but Hummingbird's fingertips were on her lips. The nauallis shook his head and she remained quiet.

'Now,' he said softly, 'you can feel the difference. This is a more natural stance for you, one in line with your body, with your mind. Now – for a moment – just be. If you cannot empty your mind – another skill to learn, as a child learns to walk – then begin to count in a simple mathematical sequence.'

One, Gretchen thought to herself. Two. Three. Four…

'Now sit,' Hummingbird's voice was very faint, almost indistinct from her own thoughts. 'Squat, let your body feel the pressure of gravity, let it fall, your feet will keep you up. Keep counting. Keep counting.'

Slumped, breast pressed against her knees, Gretchen began to feel very tired. Her head wanted to drag to the floor, but somehow the interplay of muscles and bone kept her upright. Three or four hundred count passed and she shifted to one side. Despite the solidity of the posture, there was an itching sensation, a discomfort. Hummingbird stepped away, his boots whisper-quiet on the rocky, uneven floor.

'Good. Now move slowly until you feel at ease again. Bit by bit. Keep counting.'

A full hour must have passed by the time Gretchen felt truly comfortable, her arms and legs limp but not heavy, her body curled into a ball, one shoulder against the same slab of stone she'd slept beside the night before.

Hummingbird's face loomed over hers, his goggles pushed back. Eyes like smoky jade stared curiously into hers. 'How do you feel?'

'Fine,' she mumbled and fell asleep before he could say anything more.

Anderssen woke to an odd tickling feeling. The sky beyond the filament door was entirely dark, so she guessed night had swung round again. Cautiously, she looked around the narrow, tilted chamber. Then Gretchen jerked upright, realizing Hummingbird had tricked her and – strangely – she did not feel sore. The persistent grainy feeling was gone. In fact, she felt remarkably rested, even good. Suspicious, Gretchen examined her medband, but the silver strip was happily asleep, all lights green, indicating no pharmaceutical intervention in progress at all.

'Crow?' Mindful of the situation deeper in the cave, she tried to shout quietly.

As usual, there was no answer. Gretchen's peaceful mood dissipated immediately.

When Anderssen unsealed the filament screen leading to the deeper cave, however, she was careful to keep her mind suitably blank. A moment's effort turned off all of her electronics; the wrist chrono, goggles, her comps. Luckily, the rebreather and recycler were powered by the motion of her limbs. She couldn't make them any quieter without asphyxiating. Counting slowly seemed to do the trick and Gretchen let her feet find the way down into the cavern. In the darkness, she realized there was a distinct slope to the passage and her hands found steadily narrowing walls on either side. Though she didn't want to risk a light, after twenty meters a faint azure glow led her to the edge of the cavern where the Russovsky-shape had been sleeping.

This time she stopped and settled into the 'heavy' squat Hummingbird had guided her into. Eyes closed, Gretchen waited, counting. Eventually, she felt itchy again and began to move from side to side, fingers outstretched to warn her of looming rocks. Strangely, after a few moments, she felt as if the room had grown larger and her questing fingers found nothing until the itching stopped. Gently, she settled to the ground, fingers finally coming to rest on stone as she opened her eyes.

The dusty floor was to her left and in the blue gleam she could see Hummingbird almost directly opposite her. Again, Russovsky was asleep under the red-and-black blanket. The table and lantern were – as far as Gretchen could tell – in the same position. Nothing seemed to have changed. The circle of faintly radiant ground cover was still interrupted by the dead, broken section. Crystalline fronds still hung from the jumbled ceiling.

What now? she wondered, turning her head slowly to look at Hummingbird. He did not move, but his attention was fixed on the sleeper, not on her. Thinking of nothing else to do, Gretchen started to count again. Bored, she began a more complicated sequence.

More time passed and Anderssen suddenly became aware something had changed in the cavern. She stopped counting but managed to keep from stirring or opening her eyes. Without seeing Gretchen became uncomfortably certain the Russovsky-shape had woken up. She strained to listen but heard only a faint, dry rustling – no more than stone settling in the vault of the mountain. Her heart began to beat faster, but she did not leap up. A queer, electric tension began to build in the air. The prickling feeling on her neck returned, stronger than before. A terrible desire to leap up and shout in alarm came over her.

Gretchen resisted, resuming her count. 2579, she thought, 2591, 2593, 2609…As she did a feeling of heat became apparent on her face, as if a torch or open flame were coming closer. The desire to open her eyes was very strong. Instead, she let her breathing slow and settled back, her limbs growing heavy again. The heat became very apparent, verging upon painful. Something brushed against her face, then withdrew… 3217, 3221, 3229…

The warmth moved, shifting to her right, and then suddenly ceased. With its absence, Gretchen realized the intermittent sound had stopped as well. The cavern felt empty, though now – as if a veil of static or noise had been drawn back – she became distinctly aware of Hummingbird sitting opposite her. She could hear him breathing. Gretchen opened her eyes.

The blue circle was empty. Russovsky, or her copy, was gone. Hummingbird was right where she'd felt him. Gretchen felt a jolt, a bright flash behind her eyes, and wondered if the sick, queasy feeling in her stomach was