Regan's Reach (5 page)

Gasping for breath, she steeled herself and
rolled over the still body . . . and then froze.

Regan cocked her head to one side . . . he
was tall . . . very tall! Male . . . hairless, smooth olive skin with a wide
mouth and eyes . . . race? Hard to pick. And he was different in an unsettling
way, different, yet familiar;
beautiful?

She reminded herself,
His name is Marin.

She reached for the neck and found a pulse,
picking up a faint beat there and noting the skin of his face felt very cold to
touch. "My God he's freezing!" Regan reached for the drinking tube of
her camelback and tried to give him water, dribbling it between his lips.
Warmth
she thought, looking at her pack . . .
hypothermia.

She pulled open the pack, scattering
contents to reach the sleeping bag, emergency blanket and Bivvy sack. A full
length zip on the bag made the process easier than it might have been and she
unzipped it, rolling the limp body into place. For the moment she only wrapped
the bag around him as there was no way of knowing for sure if anything was
broken. Reaching around his bald head she could feel a large ugly lump on the
back and blood, lots of dried blood that had also soaked the back of his suit.
Slipping the Bivvy sack over the bottom of the sleeping bag Regan felt for his
feet then worked the sack up around the limp form. Finally she crouched by the
bag, put her head in her hands and contemplated the next move.

Taking the SatPhone out of her pocket she
also grabbed some energy bars and water. Looking up at thankfully clear sky she
could see darkness wasn't far off. "Where did the time go? . . . Shit,
shit, shit, shit!"

Mentally Regan raced through her options.
Help
should be on the way. The weather is good. A helicopter could, should have been
here by now. . . . ?

. . . was that ever an option?

Carefully she wriggled into the bag. It was
a struggle but the man was so lean it was manageable. Wrapping herself around
his cold form, with one hand she reached to put the drinking tube to his mouth
and with the other she turned on the SatPhone.

As the phone powered up Regan felt herself
beginning to shake, the first signs of shock since the call. "Toughen up
girl! You wanted a challenge - you've got it."

Immediately the SatPhone began to chirp.
She looked at it, took a deep breath, and answered.

Without waiting she launched in, "Why
didn't you call someone, the authorities?"

"That wasn't possible Ms Stein, is
Marin alive?"

"Yes. Yes, he's unconscious and hurt,
but alive, just. He needs help urgently, why aren't you calling the authorities?"

"Ms Stein. Help was called . . . you.
You must get Marin to the."

"What's the Pod? . . . No way! He can't
be moved at the moment. He's freezing. I've got to warm him or he'll die
anyway. His pulse is weak, he has a head injury and it's getting darker here by
the minute. Trust me, this the only way, I'm going to warm him up before
anything. Bring the copter or Pod or whatever you call it here."

"That's not possible while you're in
the bush. You must get him to the Pod as soon as possible."

A sudden concern came to her. "When
did he last have water?"

"He is probably dehydrated as it's
been more than twenty five hours since his last contact. Ms Stein, can you see
Marin's equipment anywhere, a backpack?"

"No, there was nothing with him."
Regan thought for a moment. "I think he only just escaped the slip. He was
caught on the edge by a tree coming down."

"How much time before you will move as
requested?"

A flash of shocked anger passed through
her, "Listen! It's not a question of
will
move, it's a matter of
can
move. He probably has hypothermia already. Hopefully we can move at first light
but it'll be dark soon; until dawn we sit tight."

"Understood, you should power down
your device then to save reserves. Power up again as soon as you are able to
move."

She noticed a definite change in the
accent.
Is that Irish?
It was a subtle change but it was varying she was
sure. "Why is your voice changing? You're making me very uncomfortable,
and what are you hiding?"

"Just trying to put you at ease Ms Stein;
you sound stressed. It doesn't appear to be working."

"You think? I'm way out on a limb here
and you're playing games? You're giving me nothing!"

"Ms Stein, all will be well. Power off
now and please do not try to contact anyone. It would not be helpful."

She paused, having a moment of cold realization.
"Could I call anyone anyway?"

"No."

Through the night Regan munched on the
occasional energy bar and tried to think as sleep was out of the question. Mercifully,
it didn't rain.

Her mind seemed in turmoil, as if it wouldn't
face something obvious, something she knew to be true, but unthinkable. Unable
to surface her concerns she concentrated on the man, wrapping herself around
him as both their bodies slowly warmed. The winter weight bag proved perfect
for keeping what little heat she generated in, but it wasn't comfortable on the
hard ground. From Marin she heard nothing other than his quiet breathing
throughout the night, terrifying her rigid at times as he took long pauses
between breaths. After the occasional long pause the sound of a fresh intake
would give her such relief she would gasp and try to suppress sobs in case he
heard and thought she was crying. Apart from that there was nothing, not a
groan or a movement; she fretted.

That she woke at dawn to the sound of birds
came as a surprise, Regan marveling that she slept at all. Carefully
extricating herself from the bag she decided to leave Marin in the warmth for
the moment. A quick search through the pack and she found spare thermals that
could be used as layers for warmth. She then looked at the pack and Marin
considering what to do.

Can't carry both,
she thought.
So, what to take? Water . . . GPS . . . SatPhone.
How far is this Pod thing?

Regan picked up the SatPhone and powered
up. It took an anxious minute to connect then began to ring immediately. She
answered.

"Ms Stein?'

"We're OK," She said quickly, "At
least I am."

"And Marin?"

"He's alive, so what now?"

"You need to get him to the Pod. It's
not far, eleven hundred meters. Can you carry him?"

Regan sighed "Eleven hundred meters."
She looked over at the form in the sleeping bag, remembering dragging that same
limp body out from under the tree.

"We'll get there; just don't tell me
it's on the other side of that slip."

"No, stay at the same altitude and
track away from the slip. If you leave the SatPhone on power I can track Marin
and direct you."

Regan considered her gear. "I have
thermal clothing for him; it will take some time for me to . . ."

"That won't be necessary," The
voice interrupted. "His suit is active, it keeps his body warm. Move as
quickly as you can."

"What did you say?"

"Move quickly."

"No, what did you say about the suit?"

"The suit generates heat for him; it's
the head injury that is of most concern."

Regan clenched her jaw and growled. "Why
didn't you tell me that last evening?"

"You didn't . . ."

"I didn't ask? . . . . Fuck, fuck,
fuck, fuck!"

Without another word Regan turned to the
still unresponsive body and carefully pulled away the Bivvy Sack. She unzipped
the sleeping bag and dragged Marin out by the armpits.
This is going to
hurt,
she thought ruefully. Any adrenalin was long gone from her system and
she found her mind clearer than at any time since the first call. In action
mode now her moves became swift and precise.

She re-stuffed the Alpine pack, ate another
energy bar and drank the last of the water. How much water Marin had been able
to take in she wasn't sure, but he wouldn't be carrying anything; his
rehydration would have to wait. She looked at the Alpine pack and reflected on
how unlikely it was anyone would find it there, off the track and hidden in the
slip wreckage. She did still have the map coordinates.
I'll leave it,
she thought, and with a last look around turned to Marin.

She stored the GPS, Satphone and Personal
Locator Beacon in the front pockets of her jacket and then taking position
below Marin on the slope, she flopped him over her shoulder; a fireman's lift.
At one point eight seven meters Regan was tall, but Marin was clearly taller
and she could feel his head banging, well down around her buttocks as she
commenced the struggle out of the fallen branches.

For an hour she carried, crawled, dragged
and hauled Marin's form up and along the slope. Although there had been no
communication with 'the voice' for some time her steady flow of swearing filled
the gap until suddenly the voice sounded from her pocket.

"There should be an animal trail,
probably above you, Marin was following it."

Climbing again at an angle she made slow progress
forward and up, struggling gamely with the unwieldy shape and weight of the
hurt man. By now her hands and knees were bleeding but with frequent stops they
managed to make ground. Fifty meters higher she stumbled on to a trail, narrow
but clear of bush and Regan made much better progress. Two hours later with
rests and a few painful falls the Irishman's voice came again.

"The Pod is below you now, around one
hundred and fifty meters lower. Can you see it?"

Regan, exhausted, slipped Marin to the
ground and slumped. They had been tracking along a wide ledge keeping close to
the face. She suspected looking over the edge would reveal a sheer drop,
however she'd been too nervous to look and confirm it. Rolling now to the brink
she looked down and from this perspective a long black rectangle could be seen
on a level shelf well below them.

"I can see something, is it black?"

"That's it."

Despairing, Regan looked down the cliff face.
"We'll never get down there from here, we're on a cliff. Marin must have
climbed up some other way."

"If the way is clear, the Pod can
climb to you."

"It's clear, we're directly above you.
But what do you mean, the Pod can climb?"

Regan kept her eyes fixed on the Pod. To
her surprise she heard no sound or powering up and she sensed rather than saw
it begin to move. It simply grew in her vision, rising smoothly toward her. As
it neared their ledge she could make out a curved upper surface, around three
meters wide with no evident screen and at it was at least nine or ten meters
long. Still nearer and she could see it was squared off at one end with a flat
bottom.

She snatched up the SatPhone. "It won't
fit on this shelf; it's way too big."

"Don't worry; the Pod will hold level
near you." The voice sounded calm now, in control.

Regan looked at the brush around her,
clearly bending in the stiff breeze and then looked back at the Pod; it seemed
completely unaffected. Eerily silent it was unsettling watching the shape turn
and rise, growing quickly bigger in her vision. Soon it was positioned with the
square end facing the ledge and it towered over her by more than a meter.

Two centre sections slid apart leaving a
meter opening into the interior. Regan stood and looking through the opening
could see a white interior with one seat to the left and a swivel console. The
space was around four meters long and 2.5 meters wide. Head room seemed minimal
for someone Marin's height, not much over two meters. The roof looked about
half a meter thick. There was no one inside.

"Where are you?" she said into
the SatPhone.

"With the ship." The voice, a
gentle Irish/American blend now, emanated from the pod and no further
pleasantries or explanations were offered.

"Please bring Marin in; you can rest
him on the floor to your right. The Pod will secure him."

Regan hesitated then again grasped Marin
from under his arms and dragged him to the entrance. She looked nervously
behind her at the opening and then tentatively extended one foot back to test
her weight. The floor didn't budge. Not for the first time she became aware her
mind was becoming detached and aloof, as if she was somewhere else monitoring
everything. She knew at some point she'd switched off, just suspended disbelief,
she couldn't have proceeded otherwise. Now, questions began tumbling out in her
mind with no obvious answers. She shook her head to clear the confusion.
Over
thinking this won't help.
She suspected thinking too much might even paralyze
her.

Dragging Marin into the small space she
arranged him as best she could on his side to protect his head. Taking off her
jacket she then arranged a pillow of sorts and stood back. Already the floor
was adjusting, molding to the body's form so that it appeared Marin was sinking
into a mattress.
Nothing could surprise me now
she thought.