Starship Fall (Starship Seasons, #2)(10)

“Badly enough,” Hawk said, “going by the mess in the cab.”

“She’ll be fine,” I said. “It’s not far to the village. Look at it this way, it might even have slowed her down. She might not have made the ritual yet.”

Hawk nodded. “Let’s get going.”

We climbed back into Matt’s car and set off again, driving slowly and from time to time coming almost to a stop in order to scan the ground and search the ditch.

I glanced at Maddie. She looked white. I wondered if we were putting an optimistic gloss on the evidence: there was always the chance that Kee had been badly injured in the accident and had wandered off into the jungle, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

The track climbed and wound around a hillside, and twenty minutes later we turned a bend and before us was Dar, a collection of perhaps fifty straw-hatted huts dotting the green incline.

Matt braked a hundred metres before the first hut and suggested we go the rest of the way on foot. We nodded agreement and climbed out. Hawk was expressionless, his stony features set.

Our arrival had been noted by a group of children playing on the perimeter of the village. They stopped and watched us, frozen into comical immobility, before running off twittering into the village. Seconds later the adults gathered, though these people seemed hardly taller than their children.

They were a humanoid race, almost identical to Homo sapiens to the point where they might have gone unnoticed in a crowd of humans. You might have wondered, though, at their slightness, their wide mouths, thin noses and large eyes; their faces bordered on the ugly, but in a few instances, as with Kee, possessed a strange and delicate beauty.

We advanced slowly and stopped perhaps ten metres from the gathered group. Hawk stepped forward, a hand raised in a gesture of greeting. He halted, cleared his throat, and spoke in their language. It seemed odd, a series of mellifluous, almost watery notes coming from the mouth of this rangy, piratical figure.

An old man pushed his way through the grouped aliens and stood staring at the ground, his head cocked in an attitude of polite attention.

When Hawk fell silent, there was a stirring among the Ashentay, and all eyes turned to the elder. He wore nothing but a loin-cloth and a necklace of beads; his face, despite the lines, suggested vitality.

Hawk turned to us and whispered, “I asked if they know of a fellow Ashentay called Kee, who had crashed a vehicle nearby and might have made her way to the village.”

The old man spoke quickly, and I glanced at Hawk. He nodded, frowning as he attempted to decipher the elder’s fluid tongue.

Hawk said to us, “He asked what business it is of ours.”

He spoke to the elder again; I caught the word ‘Kee’ from time to time.

There was a stirring of interest among the group. Hawk said, “I told them that Kee was a dear friend of ours, and that she came to the area intending to take part in the smoking of bones ritual, but that she had crashed her vehicle before arriving here. I said we’re concerned for her safety.”

The elder moved his hand in a quick, circular gesture and spoke.

He was still speaking when Hawk hung his head and said, under his breath, “Thank Christ...” He turned to us, relief flooding his face. “She’s okay. She came to them two days ago. She had a badly cut forehead, and her arm was injured. But Jyrik – the elder – he said the village’s doctor fixed her up and she left the village on foot today.”

“Today?” Maddie said. “How early?”

Hawk spoke to the elder, then reported, “She set off at first light.”

“And how far is it to the sacred site?” Maddie asked.

Hawk addressed the elder again.

The old man flung out a hand towards the mountains and uttered a flow of whispery words.

“A few hours,” Hawk relayed, unable to keep the smile from his face.

Maddie said, “Then we might catch up with her before...”

“If we follow in the car,” I said.

Hawk was shaking his head. “I asked him about the terrain. The car wouldn’t stand a chance–”

“What about the bison?” Matt said. “I could go back and see what state it’s in...”

Hawk spoke with the elder, then said, “It’s worth a try. It’s pretty steep terrain, but we could go as far as possible and travel the rest of the way on foot. The elder said he’d provide a guide.”

“We’ll go back to the bison,” Matt said. “Try to get it started.”

While Hawk continued his conversation with the elder, Matt, Maddie and I hurried back to the car. Matt jumped into the driver’s seat and we sped back down the track. Ten minutes later we came to the bison.

Matt hoisted himself into the cab while I moved to the rear of the vehicle and inspected the ditch; it wasn’t deep, and I suspected the bison’s tracks would have no difficulty in reversing out.

I joined Matt and Maddie in the cab. Matt held up the ignition card, kissed it and said, “Now let’s just hope the smash didn’t do any irreparable damage.”

He inserted the card and depressed the starter, and the engine roared to life. The bison bucked, and Matt yelled and hauled the gear-lever into reverse. With much revving and swearing, he eased the vehicle from the ditch and pointed it in the direction of the village.

We bucketed along, laughing like kids on a fairground ride.