Brightly Burning(94)

“This is not what I had in mind for an adventure,” Justine said.

“We never said it would be dry,” Jon cracked.

While I managed a smile, I found myself weighed down by serious thought. We’d walked a third of the day, yet it seemed we were no closer to finding Hugo, and now it was likely the tracks had washed away. I felt a hand touch lightly to my arm. Xiao.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find them soon. I’d wager whoever we’re chasing is only a few days’ walk away.”

A few days? I did my best to hide my consternation, and after another minute’s rest, we forged on. I counted steps instead of minutes. Four hundred steps, and the cold and damp set into my bones; a thousand, and my pack of supplies was killing my back. But it took only one step around a bend to turn weariness into excitement.

I could see people.

Four figures loomed on the horizon, maybe half a mile ahead of us on the road—?I was getting the hang of judging distance—?so I knew if I sprinted, I could reach them in just a few minutes.

“Wait, Stella!” Jon barked before I could get farther than a few feet past him. I stopped and looked back to see him incline his head at Xiao and Hanada, who both placed ready hands on their gun holsters.

“Is that really necessary?” I squinted into the distance. “They don’t look any bigger than I am.”

“It’s a precaution.”

“A stupid precaution,” I argued. “If they meant us harm, they would have left Hugo for dead, not carted him off, presumably to help him. If they see we have guns, they may assume we’re a threat and respond in kind. Have a little faith.” I looked to Xiao for backup; she was an officer, but she understood diplomacy, too. After a moment of clear consideration, Xiao relaxed, moving her hand away from the gun. Mari followed suit.

“Let’s approach carefully,” Xiao said, specifically directing her authority at Jon. He was the tracker and planner of our group, but she had fifteen years as an officer under her belt. “Stella, you take the lead; Jon and Mari fall back.”

We began to move in new formation, finding that our potential friends hadn’t stopped to argue about their approach and thus had bridged a quarter of the gap between us. I could make out some features. They reminded me of Jatinder, Navid, and Preity. “Did the Crusader have a significant South Asian population?” I asked, quickening my pace.

“I don’t think so,” Jon said.

“Hello!” I called out when we were finally within hearing distance. But all I got back was confusion. Justine attempted a greeting in French, and Hanada tried Japanese, Korean, and, inexplicably, German.

“Nín hǎo!” Xiao tried finally, which immediately elicited a reaction. The four of them turned and started chatting excitedly to one another. “They speak Mandarin,” Xiao informed us with considerable amusement. There was no way they came from the Crusader—?the chief language among the fleet was English. Who were they? And where were we?

Now close enough to have a conversation, Xiao rattled off something, of which I caught nothing but Hugo’s name. As a conversation was conducted in rapid-fire Mandarin, I observed the party, affirming my belief that they were not from any fleet ship. Their clothing was roughly hewn but looked sturdily made—?they wore bodices made of leather over tawny-colored slacks. Brown, tan, and bleached white were the dominant color scheme, which led me to believe they had no access to the variety of dyes we had on the fleet.

“They have Hugo.” Xiao turned to us breathlessly to report the good news. “And he’s alive. Injured, but alive. They saw our ship come down and were coming to investigate. They’ll take us to him now.”

Xiao walked up front with her four new friends, the rest of us following behind, hopelessly shut out of a conversation we couldn’t understand. Every few minutes, Xiao relayed the highlights to us in English.

“It’s absolutely unbelievable,” she said. “They’re from here. From Earth. Descended from survivors of the ice age.” She turned back to the woman who seemed to be the ringleader, who wore a long, neat braid that stretched halfway down her back and had bright hazel eyes that crinkled at the edges. I placed her at maybe forty. When she spoke, her tone was warm but firm.

Xiao piped up with new information. “They lived in underground shelters carved out of old mining shafts until about sixty years ago. We’re heading toward their settlement.”

“Where are we, exactly? Do they know what part of the world we’re in?” Jon asked.

“More importantly for the present,” Justine piped in, “how long until we reach their settlement? I am exhausted.”

“It’s a few hours’ walk, I’m afraid,” Xiao replied. “They say they walked all morning, as we did, though they likely set out a bit later. And to answer your question, Jon, they say we’re in the country formerly known as India.”

Like Hugo’s Jungle Book, I thought.

We introduced ourselves, with Xiao acting as interpreter, and they did the same. The leader was Reshma, the other two women named Jia and Adeebah, and the man was Ravi. Xiao asked why they spoke Mandarin and relayed that the shelter their ancestors had taken was Chinese in origin; thus, they had learned that language primarily. I wished I remembered enough of the Hindi Jatinder had taught me to ask if they had retained that language too. But then again, this part of the world had had hundreds of languages. So much culture had been lost.