**
“I said get the hell up!” hissed a voice very close to his ear.
But Tenet didn't want to get up. He was in the middle of a wonderful dream. Everything was green. His mother was bringing him lemonade to quench his thirst. His sister had an ice pack for his scorching head. He didn't want to wake up, and closed his eyes tighter.
“Get up or I'm leaving you to roast.”
Tenet frowned. Now that didn't sound very friendly!
“I know you can hear me, I know you're awake. Get your pampered ass up and get those legs moving.”
Tenet cleared his throat. “Perhaps you didn't notice that I'm injured,” he sulked, though his lips were too dry to pull off a pout.
The person sighed and swore under her breath. Definitely a woman. “You're fine. Get up. We need to go,” she said, with less anger and more urgency.
Tenet cracked open his eyes and blinked, expecting to be blinded by the sun. Instead, they were under some sort of a plank. Where, he had no idea. He was equally clueless as to how. The one thing he was sure of, though, was that he was definitely injured. “My arm. I fell off the cliff...”
“Look we don't have time for this!” she almost yelled. Almost. She caught herself just in time. “I don't think you understand what a serious situation we're in. In less than an hour, bots will be all over every inch of this ranch. I don't know about you, but I'm not a fan of those creepy little bastards, so last time: either you get up now, or I'm outta here.”
Tenet heard her tone and knew she was dead serious. Gingerly he tried to raise up on his right elbow again.
She sighed heavily once again and suddenly was standing over him. He opened his mouth to object when he saw her hand heading for his collar, but the look on her face said quite clearly that there would be no arguing. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing against the pain as her hand gripped his suit front and he was lifted upright. He stood swaying, expecting to hit the ground again at any moment. When it didn't happen, he cracked an eyelid open.
She was staring at him through the window of her mask with an expression of confusion, disgust, hatred, and maybe just a little respect...though Tenet hedged he was just hopeful about the “respect”. “There. You're up.”
He looked down at his mangled arm. “Huh,” was all he said when he saw that it was perfectly in one piece. “I thought I lost it for sure.”
She swore and stood muttering to herself for a second, obviously searching for patience. “From what I can gather, you tripped over a rock and hit your head. The pattern in the ground looks like you passed out and were in the same position for quite some time.” She held her hand up when he opened his mouth. “Don't worry. I already cleared the area.” He closed his mouth, even though that wasn't what he was going to ask. In fact, he kept his mouth shut while she detailed the reality of his ordeal out of sheer humiliation. He hadn't even thought about clearing the area, nor any area he had plundered through the past few days.
“My guess is that your arm fell asleep, you woke up and couldn't move it and assumed the worst,” she said, shaking her head. “No matter. The point is, you're a bit scuffed up, but fine. Now can we go? I don't want to face the bots, especially after dark.” She turned and started walking, leaving absolutely no room for debate.
Tenet's head was spinning. He flexed his left hand inside the thick gloves. It worked, and there was little pain. He lifted it in front of him, and again, nothing fell off. He could have turned red with embarrassment, hung his head, and obediently followed behind his mystery savior. Hell, he probably should have. But he didn't. Why should he be embarrassed? He still got knocked unconscious. He certainly didn't deserve the barely contained contempt. “Now look here,” he said, starting after her.
Instead of stopping, she pushed forward, increasing her pace until Tenet had to jog to catch up.
“Hey! I'm trying to talk to you!”
“And if you want me to save your sorry ass, you'll do less talking and more walking,” she said in an even tone, not showing one bit of the hard breathing Tenet suffered.
“Well who asked you to, anyway?” he yelled.
She pivoted in her tracks and marched back to him until she stood mask to mask. “Scream like that again, and the bots will have to fight over your remains.” Her voice was cool and even, but Tenet wasn't stupid enough to mistake it for calm. He knew without a doubt that she fully meant it. He took a deep breath and tried to stop his knees from shaking.
“I didn't mean to yell. But look it at from my point of view. I was walking, had an accident,” she opened her mouth to object, but he plowed ahead, “however it happened. You say a rock, I say a cliff,” again, he had to ignore the roll of her eyes. “At any rate, it was a severe enough knock to the head that I was rendered unconscious. I woke up in extreme agony, confused out of my mind...”
“That was from dehydration. I swear, tackling Summer without a water supply...”
“Whatever!” he cut in, loudly enough to get the glare. He lowered his voice. “I was still out of my head and confused, alright? Does it really matter why? No. So, there I was, languishing in the sun...”
“You wanna speed this up?”
He did a silent ten count. He couldn't strangle her, no matter how frustrating she was. The fact was, he needed her. “My point is that I haven't even had a minute to think things through, and I'd appreciate you answering a few questions.”
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. “Fine. Ask while we walk. I wasn't kidding about the bots.” She turned around and resumed her horse race pace.
“What's your name?” asked Tenet, falling into the swift step.
“Scarab.”
Tenet snorted. “Like the bug? What kind of name is that?”
“Mine.”
There was more to the story there. Way more. He'd have to find out later. “Fine, Scarab. I'm Tenet...”
“Bradwin the third...” she finished.
Tenet frowned. “It's fourth, actually...”
“Whatever.”
“How did you know?”
Scarab didn't answer, just kept up her break neck pace. He asked again and she flipped a rude gesture over her shoulder at him. Okay, that subject was also closed. He sighed. “How did you find me?”
She laughed then, not a maniacal laugh of a lunatic, but a deep belly laugh as if he had just said the funniest thing in the world. “You're kidding, right?” she asked when the chuckles subsided.
He knew she was laughing at him. For what, he really didn't know. For awhile they just trotted in silence while he tried to brood. He had been extremely careful to cover his tracks. Except for the fall scene, of course, and he couldn't be faulted for that, now could he? No. Other than that, he had carefully picked his way across the ranch, looking back every now and again to make sure he left no sign. Okay, so he didn't do any cover or sweep. But he didn't see anywhere he had needed to.
He sniffed at the insult as he played it over in his head. His tracking skills won him much acclaim at the Academy. Top in his class, his professor had pronounced to the banquet audience just last Winter. How dare she question his ability? And so went the conversation in his head, while ahead of him, Scarab randomly snickered.
Anger turned to offense and mixed with curiosity. Eventually, curiosity won over sulkiness. “Alright, I give up. Just what do you mean by 'you're kidding'?”
She shook her head. “No offense or anything, but I doubt you could hide yourself from a bot if you were sitting in the middle of a magnetic field!”
Aha, so it was supposed to be offensive. He snorted and huffed and finally said, “I'll have you know I was tops in the Academy!”
She sighed. “Hey relax, okay? I said 'no offense'.”
“I was,” he persisted.
“Yes, I'm sure you were. And that's fine. Good, even. Did you get a ribbon for it? Medal, perhaps?”
He started to answer before he realized she was still picking on him. “Actually, I got a...”
/> “I was joking,” she said, flatly. “I don't really care what fancy thing they did for you. That was in school. This is life.”
He wouldn't let it drop. “The point of schooling is to prepare one for life,” he said, in the haughtiest voice he could. “Professors McCoodle and Gransh are renowned for their tracking skills.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Absolutely! World renowned. And I'll have you know that fourteen graduates from my class alone, myself included, have received personal letters of recognition from the Grand Council itself on setting the new standard of tracking and track courses.”
“Oh really,” she said, flatly.
He puffed his chest a bit and had the stupidity to continue. “And, if that's not enough for you, I'll have it be known right now that I happen to be the head tracker on this very ranch, the largest ranch in both Summer and Winter.”
That did it. Scarab set her jaw and said in her haughtiest voice, “And how many of those attending the Academy have ever actually had to put it to the test, huh? Hell, for that matter, how many of those sainted professors have, either? I'll wager none, since I'd know their names if they did!”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course we have never actually tried it. Not from the bots. But the skills are a necessary part of Agro, and are used every single day.” He was tempted to add a “duh” in there, but decided to take the high road.
“Well, now,” she said with a sly grin, “We're not tracking raptors, are we? We're not tracking wraiths. We're not tracking gilla or coonskunks. In fact, Mr. Know-it-all, in case I haven't gotten it across to you by now, we're not tracking anything. We're being tracked. Just what have your professors taught you about that?”
Alright, point to Scarab. “Fine,” he grudgingly conceded. “But that doesn't change anything. We're being tracked...so I've just been doing everything in reverse.”
She stopped so quickly he almost ran into her. “Everything in reverse?”
He nodded. “Yes. I take the signs I look for when tracking, and try not to do those things myself.”
“Ah,” she said with a nod. “I see.”
He gave a smug smile. That's right. Point Tenet.
She made a turning motion with her finger. “Would you please look behind us?”
He turned and saw their track. Actually, he saw one track. He followed it from the horizon back. Not surprisingly, but much to his dismay, the tracks lead right to his very own feet. “Oh,” he said quietly.
She took pity on him. “Look. You track. I'm sure you're very good at it, in proper season. But Summer...it's a whole different ballgame. You have to look for solid items...”
“I was!”
“I know. But you have to look for clean solid items, something without dust.”
He looked back at the track and could see her point. He never even thought of that. He'd been very careful to hop from rock to rock whenever possible. It was what lead him to the top of that large cliff. He figured he'd leave prints in the ash that was once the green of the ranch. Yet when he looked back, he saw not her footprints in the ash, but a completely undisturbed expanse. “But how...”
“Look,” she said as she stomped her foot. The ash puffed around her legs, but quickly settled. She took a step forward and to his surprise, there was no print left behind at all.
“That's amazing!”
She sighed again. “Not really. Just set your feet straight and almost stomp. Don't drag, or the whole thing is ruined.”
Tenet gave it a try.
“Stomp, not shuffle.”
He tried again. And again. And again. Finally he threw his hands in the air and was about to yell when he caught the look she was giving. “I can't do it,” he said in a carefully controlled tone.
“Maybe not yet, but you will.”
He doubted it. She turned and started walking again, but he stood and watched. Puffs, then settling into nothing. He seriously doubted he'd ever be able to pull that off. It made him wonder how long she'd been out here. He clumsily stomped his way up to her and asked just that.
“Seven Summers here, seven Winters there.”
Tenet scoffed. “That's ridiculous. No one does that.”
She shrugged, not caring one way or the other if he believed her. “You're out here.”
“I'm here because...”
“No,” she said firmly, holding her hand up almost in his face. “I don't want to know.”
Now that was odd. Tenet was thoroughly confused by this woman. She claimed to spend fourteen off seasons? Insane. No one could have lived through that much physical torture, much less a woman. True, there were urban legends about such people. But that's all they were, myths. The logistics of actually doing it were beyond human comprehension. Not to mention the legality of it. There was no way a government would allow someone to risk it. One Winter, one Summer, maybe. And that was pushing it. The penalties were too severe.
And yet...the ash walking trick, he knew it had to take time to learn, so this was not her first off season. He watched her walk a few paces ahead of him. It was impossible to tell just how large she was because of the suit, but she was definitely tall. Probably not skinny, either, he decided after watching the way she moved. He himself had lost weight, and he'd only been in the off season a few days. If she truly was one of those mythic creatures who hovered on the outskirts of humanity and society by being off seasoners...
Tenet stumbled over a rock, his thoughts scattering. “Shit,” he hissed, catching himself before another fall. “Who the hell designed these boots anyway? A blind monkey?”
Scarab snorted again. “I would have thought you practiced walking in them in the Academy.”
Tenet sniffed and held his nose a notch higher. “For your information, we did. I'm just not used to these antiquated beasts. We had the very latest in terrain gear available, you know.”
“I bet you did.”
“There was obviously a reason these horrendous things died out.”
“Obviously,” she said dryly, shaking her head. The latest models, he said. Of course. What else would do at the Academy? “If it's so great, and you're such an expert in using the latest and greatest, then why aren't you wearing it?”
Tenet frowned and sulked to himself. They both knew the answer to that one. One of the main problems with this little plan of his had been how to get the equipment for such a daring journey. Since off seasoning was illegal, the very best equipment was hoarded by the military. He knew that going into it, but thought that certainly someone of his status could at least get his hands on the second best. He was sorely mistaken. The best he could come up with was an old set of boots, a suit that had needed repair, and a pair of gloves that would embarrass his mother if she ever saw him in them.
“My headgear is top notch,” he muttered in his own defense.
“Great. Walk on your head.”
He sighed.
“Or, here's a thought,” she said holding up her finger. “Maybe you could just spend more time thinking about where you're walking instead of blaming the equipment? Hm?”
He scowled at her. “This is not a very good rescue.”
“Well that's because it's not a rescue.”
That surprised him. “I thought you said you were here to, how did you put it? Oh, yes. 'Save my sorry ass.'”
Scarab shook her head. “No. I asked if you wanted me to.”
“Same thing.”
“No, it's not. Personally I don't give two shits if you live or die.”
For some reason, that hit home with Tenet. All of a sudden, the gravity of the situation slammed into him with an almost physical blow. Here he was, not only breaking the law, but lost beyond belief in his own land. The place he knew for half his life, the hills that offered comfort, the creeks that gave him joy, had disappeared almost overnight. He may as well have been on another planet. And then someone comes along to rescue him, or at least he thought it was a rescue...and the one person he's seen in this devastat
ed wasteland doesn't care if he lives or dies. He didn't doubt her for a moment. She meant it. She honestly didn't care a whit for him or his well being. The disappointment and isolation was suddenly grit in his mouth.
He swallowed it down and cleared his throat. “If it's not a rescue mission, then, what is it?”
“Oh,” she said, too casually for him to actually take it that way. “I'm a bounty hunter.”