Cold rocky asteroids like a string of dull pearls spun in a half-circle around their sun. Here and there were pinpricks of light: pockets of life and warmth protected against the bitter cold. Voidships darted in and out among the driftbergs, carrying commerce between the far-flung settlements.
Chachery Driftberg formed a binary system with Arenberg, a much smaller asteroid that orbited it like a moon. On one side, the driftberg was dominated by the Chachery warmbubble, a haven of warmth and life. Opposite the warmbubble was the Wildside.
A middle-aged woman stood on Arenberg, watching the Wildside drift away from her. A satchel full of food and herbs hung limply by her side. She had strayed a little too far from her foraging group, and now the two driftbergs were too far away for her to jump between them.
Akcia was beginning to shiver. She hugged herself, a few tears coming to her eyes. She wasn’t a Clubson or Clubdaughter; she didn’t have enhanced strength or endurance, or the ability to set up Warmrooms against the cold. No-one nearby would help her, either; the Orely Club who called Arenberg home were notorious for their inhospitality. Although Akcia was a Fringer, she was affiliated with the Nalchery Club, and Orely would kill her if they found her.
All that was left was to find a suitable hole to die in.
Kkiekk gathered with two other Clubsons of the Nalchery Club in the warmroom immediately above the Clubfather’s apartments. The Clubfather, Troo Nalkk, came up with his daughter Cilla. The Clubsons Lukas and Marokk sat on cots in the corners of the room, anxiously leaned forward. The atmosphere in the room was tense.
Clubfather Nalkk began abruptly. “Kkiekk, would you tell everyone the reason for this meeting, so that we are all aware?”
Kkiekk could feel Cilla on the other side of the room, and his mind wandered. He tried to gather himself. “Akcia has been cut off on Arenberg. There are no friendly Clubs there, and no Crowds. If we do not get to her within the hour, Arenberg will have drifted completely out of the reach of the Chachery Driftberg and Akcia, who is not a Clubeater, will freeze to death.”
“You recommend we go get her?” asked the Clubson Lukas.
“I do,” said Kkiekk. He wanted to say more, but thought better of it and shut his mouth. Let’s see what Lukas says before arguing with him, he thought.
“Is such a project feasible?” asked Lukas. “As you said, we have less than an hour to get down to Arenberg, and even if we find Akcia right away, we will not be able to get back before Arenberg is cut off from Chachery. We might end up all freezing to death.”
“But we are Clubeaters,” said Kkiekk. “Arenberg has a very regular rotation, and should get back within range of Chachery in plenty of time. We won’t starve, we won’t freeze, and we’ll be able to make a warmroom to keep Akcia from freezing either. The main danger is from the Orely Club finding us and trying to kill us, but I don’t think that’s very likely.”
“Or finding Akcia,” said Lukas. “It could very well be that they will have found and killed her by the time we get there, and our trip will be for nothing.”
“But if we don’t go and she isn’t dead, we’re the ones who’ve killed her.”
“I have one more objection,” said Lukas, “and I will be at peace: how do you plan to get back to Chachery? Arenberg will be facing the Chachery Crowd, not the Wildside where we live. We cannot maintain a warmroom on Arenberg for the length of time it would take to be facing Wildside again unless our Clubfather came with us; and if he did so, all his warmrooms here on Chachery would collapse. Without him, though, we cannot survive on Arenberg that long, and we will all freeze to death.”
“We will have to go back through the Chachery Crowd,” said Kkiekk.
“I don’t like this,” said Marokk, the third Clubson in the room. “Akcia is a Fringer, not a Clubeater, and she has a weak chest. She is useful, sure, but she could be replaced in five minutes.”
Clubfather Nalkk himself answered that objection. “Akcia is one of us. I am in favor of her being rescued, if there are three or four Clubeaters in favor of going.”
“I’m going,” said Lukas, much to Kkiekk’s surprise. “It’s risky, but the Clubfather said it: Fringer though she is, Akcia is one of us.”
“I’ll go,” said Marokk. “If Clubfather says she’s one of us, then one of us she is.”
“I’ll go,” said Cilla. “You’ll need more Clubeaters to set up the warmroom.”
“Cilla,” protested Kkiekk, “are you sure? You’re not a Clubson; you don’t have the strength or agility to jump between Driftbergs.”
“I’m the one who will take care of her if she’s been hurt,” said Cilla. “Besides, Nalchery Club has four Clubsons. All four can’t go.”
“Pooll isn’t even here,” said Marokk. “He’s on guard duty.”
Kkiekk looked at Cilla with a deep concern. “Cilla, you are the love of my life. If something happened to you, I’d never recover.”
“And I’d be fairly upset myself,” interrupted Clubfather Nalkk dryly. “But the fact remains: you could set up a warmroom with three, but four is much surer.” He paused. “I assume, Kkiekk, that you are yourself going.”
“Of course,” replied Kkiekk distractedly. He turned to Cilla, but she forestalled his words.
“If anything happened to you, I’d die, Kkiekk. But you’re going on the mission just the same. You’ve got to risk it sometimes for the people who are worth it.”
Kkiekk nodded. “You’re right. And this world is rougher than sandpaper, but sandpaper makes smooth.” He began to put on his Clubsons’ thick, outdoor pants and jacket, which he had taken off in the warmroom.
“In the name of this world’s Holy Father, I bless you,” said the Clubfather. “In the name of His Holy Son, I bless you. In the name of the Holy Spirit, I bless you. Go in peace and bring success.”
They stepped out of the warmroom and into the violent cold of Chachery’s dark, frigid Wildside. Lukas led the way, followed by Cilla, then Kkiekk. Marokk brought up the rear. Around them, the doors of Nalchery’s other warmrooms glowed from the light within.
Nalchery Club was centered deep in the labyrinth of abandoned buildings and metal superstructures that made up the Chachery Wildside. The Club had only two exits, one from below and one from the side. It was towards this exit that the four-person rescue party went.
They quickly climbed up a metal ladder, trying to keep their hands from touching the frozen metal as much as possible, and came up under the dark night sky. They were in an alley; ugly four-story buildings surrounded them on three sides. On the fourth, the alley vanished underneath a massive network of steel girders, like a path leading into a dark cave. Two men leaned against the walls on either side, wrapped in protective garments and holding long wooden rifles.
“Who goes there?” demanded one of them.
“Kkiekk, Marokk, Cilla Nalkk and Lukas,” replied Lukas.
The four Clubeaters stepped forward. “Akcia got left on Arenberg,” said Kkiekk. “We’re going to get her back.”
Kkiekk could see the guards’ faces now. They were both Fringers – Ingpar and Akcia’s brother Mikall. Because Fringers weren’t officially members of the Club, most Clubs wouldn’t employ them as anything more than servants. Nalchery was one of the few that permitted them to bring weapons within the Club.
“I was told about that when her scavenging group came in,” growled Mikall. He turned to Kkiekk. “If you wait a moment for me to get a replacement at guard, I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not,” said Kkiekk.
“Are you telling me I can’t even help in the rescue of my own sister?”
“I am telling you exactly that,” said Kkiekk. “Already Arenberg will be far enough away that only a Clubson will be able to jump the gap. We’d have to carry you across, and you’d just be dead weight. Cilla is coming because she can help set up a warmroom. You can fight, I’ll grant you that, and if we get attacked by the Orely Club we’ll wish we brought you with. But our primary goal is not to get attacked, and if we’re bringing with people whose sole purpose would be to fight, that will likely antagonize Orely.” Kkiekk did not say what his primary concern was – bringing what looked like a war party through the Chachery Crowd.
“I don’t like this,” muttered Mikall.
“We’re on guard,” said Ingpar sharply. “We have a duty to stay at our post. They’re the Clubsons – their duty is to go out.”
“Mikall,” said Lukas, “it is not us who are doing the rescue mission, or you who is not doing it, but Nalchery Club that is rescuing one of our own.”
Mikall nodded, sighed. “May you go in peace and bring success.”
“May you go in peace and bring success,” repeated Ingpar.
They jogged down the alleyway that quickly became a tunnel, moving up as much as they could. When they came to a broad gap, Kkiekk or Marokk would take Cilla and jump with her across it.
They jogged up a flight of stairs and onto the roof of a building half-collapsed. Behind them stretched the Wildside, mired in an impenetrable darkness, shadows of structures half-rising in the gloom. Here and there, the dim glow of warmrooms marked the location of various Clubs; between the buildings flickered small, sharp pinpricks of light, marking the fires that gangs of independent Fringers lit in the struggle to keep from freezing. Before them, the metallic landscape of the city gave way to a warren of small hovels, long-since abandoned, falling in on themselves. The stars burned coldly in the sky above, the wind, unhindered by buildings, tore and froze their skin. Immediately before them was Arenberg: a dark patch of sky where the stars could not be seen.
“Hold tight,” said Kkiekk to Cilla as Lukas jumped from the top of the building to the ground below. Kkiekk followed with Cilla, and Marokk brought up the rear.
The dilapidated, wattle-and-daub buildings were eerie under the burning stars as the four Clubeaters jogged past them. They looked like corpses strewn by the side of the road, frozen in the cold.
They came out of the mass of hovels almost an hour after Kkiekk had come into the warmroom with news of Akcia’s entrapment on Arenberg. Before them was a short stretch of rocky ground, pathless, and then a drop-off. To continue past the drop-off would mean to begin to come back around the other side of the Chachery Driftberg, and approach the warmbubble of the Chachery Crowd. But before them was Arenberg, beginning to drift past the ledge that marked the edge of the Chachery Driftberg.
“Come on,” said Kkiekk, “we’ve not got a lot of time.”
Kkiekk carried Cilla piggy-back, and they began to jog towards the ledge, then run. Lukas reached it first and launched himself into space. For a moment he hung in the void between the two Driftbergs, then began to fall towards Arenberg. But Kkiekk was not watching Lukas; he had reached the ledge. He shoved off the rocks and jumped with the enhanced strength of a Clubson, Cilla warming his back, his front freezing from the icy wind. For a moment he, too, hung weightless between the two asteroids, then momentum carried him forward and he was falling towards Arenberg.
I’m going to land wrong, Kkiekk thought, and he was right. He came towards Arenberg with his front, not his feet, and he had to let go of Cilla and roll, tucking in his head as he smashed hard against the rock. Kkiekk sat up in time to see Marokk land in a roll.
Cilla lay on the ground, blood on her head.
“Cilla!” Kkiekk yelled.
“I’m alright,” said Cilla. She got up agonizingly slowly and wiped her forehead with her hand. “I can walk, and I don’t think anything’s broken.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?” asked Lukas.
“Three,” said Cilla. “Now two. One. Three. Five.”
Lukas put down his hand.
“I’m so sorry, Cilla,” Kkiekk began.
“No problem,” said Cilla. “I’m not hurt that badly. Anyways, we can’t worry about it right now. We need to get out of the open and find Akcia.”
“Arentown is that way,” said Marokk. “I’d think that’s where Akcia is most likely to be.”
“That’s where Orely Club is,” said Lukas. “If I were Akcia, I’d want to get as far from them as possible.”
“If I were Akcia,” said Kkiekk, “I’d want to hide. And the only place to hide on Arenberg is Arentown.”
“There’s The Hole,” said Cilla. Lukas nodded.
“What hole?” asked Marokk, puzzled.
“It’s more of a tunnel, really,” said Cilla. “It goes the length of Arenberg. If I were Akcia, that’s where I’d go.”
“Should we split up or search together?” asked Kkiekk.
“Together,” replied Lukas. “We’re getting colder as we speak. Whether we find Akcia or not, we need to make a warmroom within the next hour or two.”
Cilla nodded. “And if Orely Clubsons find us separate, they’re much more likely to attack.”
After a brief deliberation, they moved in the opposite direction from Arentown and towards The Hole. Except for the very small indentation where Arentown was situated, Arenberg was bare, with bits of grass and weed growing here and there between the stark, frozen rocks.
The Hole was near the far edge of Arenberg. It really was more of a tunnel, as though a gigantic worm had come along and chewed through the Driftberg. Somehow, it was colder in The Hole than it was outside. Clubeaters though they were, all four were shivering by the time they reached the other side of The Hole.
On this side of Arenberg, the sun was visible – a flaming orb near Arenberg’s “horizon,” surrounded by an aura of blue. Distant Driftbergs, miles away, could be seen by the sunlight. One could turn around and see the stars burning coldly in the black of night, Driftbergs nothing but patches of a deeper blackness.
“Let’s go,” shivered Kkiekk.
“If we don’t find Akcia soon,” said Marokk, “we’ll need to make a warmroom in Arentown or we’ll all freeze, too.”
“Hello…”
The sound was so weak, they barely heard it.
“Akcia!” cried Kkiekk. “Akcia, make some noise! Where are you?”
“I’m here…”
“Where?”
Akcia was wedged into a crack in the side of the Hole, bundled up against the cold that had already rendered her nearly paralyzed. Cilla and Kkiekk pried her out, and Kkiekk carried her quickly with them. His relief mixed with concern in equal measure: Akcia was found, but Akcia was also nearly frozen to death.
They reached Arentown quickly; a dark mass of stone buildings jumbled together like a child’s building blocks. Some were beginning to fall apart, but most were still intact, for which Akcia and the Nalchery Clubeaters were very grateful.
They set up the warmroom in the attic of one of the more upright buildings. It was a very small space; Kkiekk lying down would have been able to reach the other side of it. But it was cozy and easy to warm, and at that moment that was all that mattered.
Cilla’s wounds were minor, but they merited attention nonetheless. The skin had been scraped off one of her arms and her scalp, but the application of an ointment soothed it and stopped the bleeding. Cilla then turned to Akcia.
“I’m sorry to cause so much trouble,” Akcia began.
“Trouble?” said Lukas. “It’s no trouble. The only problem was finding you, but here you are.”
“I found a patch of the weed Cilla uses to make medicine,” Akcia continued to explain. “But it took me a while to gather it all. By the time I came around to the other side of Arenberg, the rest of the group was gone and Chachery was too far away for me to jump.”
“It’s all right,” said Kkiekk. “You’re one of us. And we’d miss you if you froze to death.”
“But there are lots of other Fringers on Chachery. It’s not like you need my work.”
“We don’t need you,” stated Marokk. “But you’re still one of us.”
“But if you don’t need me, why would you come get me?”
“Because you’re the only Akcia there is in this whole world,” Kkiekk replied, “and you’re my friend. I at least want you to be alive.”
“So do I,” said Lukas.
“It’s called love,” said Cilla. “You don’t love someone because of what they do or who they are. You love them because you love them.” She smiled, and her eyes met Kkiekk’s. “And we love you, Akcia.”
“I’m just a Fringer, though. I’m not a Clubeater.”
“You’re a person, just like we are,” said Kkiekk. “You’re one of us, and you’re our friend. Like Cilla said: we love you.”
“But why?”
“Because we love you. Because you’re our friend. There is no reason why.”
“We need to go to sleep,” said Cilla.
“I’ll take first watch,” said Lukas.
“I’ll take second,” said Marokk. “And then I think it will be time to leave.”
Without a Clubfather nearby, the warmroom was decidedly unstable. By the time Marokk had finished his watch, the chill creeping into the warmroom had woken them all up. Akcia was shivering.
Cilla felt Akcia’s forehead. “She’s too cold,” she whispered to Kkiekk.
“We’re all too cold,” Kkiekk replied. “We need to get back to Chachery.”
They skirted the edge of dead Arentown, since a glow under the buildings near the middle of Arentown betrayed the location of the Orely Club. Arenberg had rotated while they slept, so that the edge where The Hole was located faced Chachery. Once again, Lukas led the way, followed by Akcia, then Cilla, then Kkiekk. As usual, Marokk brought up the rear. The wind nipped and tore at them as they went, and Kkiekk with concern felt his face begin to grow warm as frostbite set in.
Chachery’s Wildside was completely out of sight. Instead, they looked down at the jumble of metal and stone that covered all of Chachery save a few edges and the Chachery warmbubble. In the distance, the warmbubble was visible: a pale blue aura of warmth, supported by the power of the Chachery Crowdmother, under which they knew crops grew. On the far side, a voidship could be seen to be docking at the Chachery Crowd’s voidquay.
“If we only had a voidship,” muttered Marokk. His breath made a cloud in the air before him.
“If only we had wings and could fly in the sky,” Lukas replied. “Kkiekk, where is the best place to jump from?”
“Let’s head down a little further,” said Kkiekk, beginning to jog, both in order to cover ground and because he had begun to be afraid of not moving. “We don’t want to jump too close to the warmbubble. The Chachery Crowd will keep closer guard there.”
“Let’s not wait, either,” said Lukas. “If we wait to jump much longer, Arenberg will be over the warmbubble, and I’m sure you want to jump right into the middle of the Chachery Crowd.”
“That’s a nice flat roof,” Cilla observed.
“I’ll lead,” said Lukas, and he leapt from Arenberg with a twist of his body that caused him to flip in midair and land feet-first. Chachery and Arenberg were closer than they had been before, and consequently Lukas did not hang in midair before being pulled down.
“I’ll take Cilla,” said Kkiekk. “Marokk, you take Akcia.”
Marokk took Akcia and jumped.
“Don’t drop me this time,” said Cilla, but she said it with a smile so Kkiekk knew she was teasing. He didn’t appreciate the tease, though; he saw the wound on her forehead and his heart wrenched.
Kkiekk took Cilla in his arms and he jumped, pushing off hard from the surface of Arenberg with the enhanced strength of a Clubson. Like Lukas, he flipped in midair and landed feetfirst on the flat roof. His landing was not the steadiest, Kkiekk stumbled and put out his left hand to break his fall. Cilla put out her right hand, similarly, and she gently lowered herself out of his arms and onto the ground.
“Think they saw us?” asked Lukas cheerfully.
“Let’s not talk about that,” said Akcia between chattering teeth.
They jumped from that building to another further down, and entered into the warren of plaster and girders that covered the Chachery Driftberg like a skin. They moved away from the surface and from the warmbubble, the two places it was most likely Chachery Crowdsons would be found.
“Lukas, stop!” warned Cilla.
“Halt!”
Three men carrying rifles stepped in front of them. A man and two women filled in behind. They were in a narrow corridor branching off of a larger passageway; the only way out was either forward or back, and both were blocked. The men and women were wearing the silver and green of the Chachery Crowd; Kkiekk’s heart sank as he looked at them. These were not Fringer mercenaries; they were Crowdeaters, every one, and most likely Crowdsons and Crowddaughters to boot.
“Where are you going?” demanded one of the men, who seemed to be the leader.
“Tell them the truth,” whispered Akcia.
“We were rescuing one of our Fringers who got trapped on Arenberg,” Kkiekk said. “We spent nine or ten hours there, and are now headed back to our warmrooms to get thawed.”
The leader smiled. “Chilly today, isn’t it? Is that why you’re so near the warmbubble?”
“Arenberg had rotated so that the only place to jump to Chachery from was near the Crowd.”
“Is that so? You’re pretty deep to have just jumped off Arenberg.”
“We jumped five or ten minutes ago,” Kkiekk replied. “We’ve been trying to get back to our warmrooms as fast as possible.”
“I’m sure you won’t object to warming up in one of our warmrooms?” asked the leader. “You all look quite frozen, especially that Fringer among you.”
Kkiekk smiled, and was on the point of politely refusing, when Cilla laid a hand on his shoulder. “You know what they mean,” she whispered. “I don’t know that Akcia will make it back to Na- home, without warming up. She’s trying to tough it out, but she’s cold to the bone, and so’s Marokk, though he won’t show it.”
“In fact,” said the leader of the Chachery group, “I insist that you come visit one of our warmrooms. I’m sure it won’t inconvenience you – will it?”
“Not at all,” Kkiekk replied with a smile. “We are very cold.” He tried to say it nonchalantly, but the cold that was invading him made it come out weak and with a shiver.
They were escorted back down the passageway and in a few minutes found themselves inside a blazing warmroom – one that made the Nalchery warmrooms feel like refrigerators in comparison. The Chachery Crowdeaters patted them down for weapons, and took away the Clubsons’ pistols, but aside from that let them keep all their equipment. Four of the Chachery Crowdeaters, two men and two women, stood at the walls and kept guard. Akcia sat down on the floor and looked troubled.
“I’m sorry, Kkiekk,” she whispered “I shouldn’t have caused you to go to all this trouble. And Cilla, too!”
“Don’t worry,” Kkiekk whispered back. “You didn’t make us come get you. We did it because we care about you.”
“I’m not worth this trouble,” Akcia began.
“If we hadn’t found you, you’d have been dead long before now,” cut off Kkiekk. “I couldn’t have let that happen, now could I? You’re definitely worth the trouble.”
“All right,” the leader of the Chachery Crowdeaters entered the warmroom and leaned against a wall. “Tell me, where are you from?”
“We’re from a Club in the Wildside,” Kkiekk replied. Already his voice was working better in the warmth, and his fingers were regaining their suppleness.
“Interesting,” remarked the leader. “And why was your Fringer on Arenberg?”
“She was with a scavenging group,” said Kkiekk. “When they jumped back to Chachery, she got left behind.”
“And you saw fit to go get this Fringer?”
“She’s one of us,” Kkiekk replied.
“I did not realize that independent Clubs set such high store by their Fringers.”
“Most Clubs don’t,” Kkiekk replied hesitantly. He realized with some trepidation that, for someone not acquainted with the Nalchery Club, or Clubfather Nalkk, their story was highly implausible. Three Clubsons and a Clubeater run a risky mission in search of a mere Fringer? Never!
“Karll!” one of the Chachery Crowdeaters ran into the room and whispered in their leader’s ear. His eyes widened.
“When?” Karll demanded.
“Right now!”
The door opened a second time, and four Crowdsons walked pompously in and stationed themselves two on either side of the door, displacing Karll. Following them was a tall, heavyset, middle-aged woman in a rich robe. Two more Crowdsons followed after, closing the door.
It did not take any guessing for Kkiekk to realize who the woman was. If the honor guard and robe had not been enough, there was an aura of power that crackled around her, and a heat that radiated off of her like from a bonfire. This was none other than the Chachery Crowdmother, Nnan Chakk!
“Who are these?” inquired Crowdmother Chakk.
“Prisoners,” Karll replied. “We caught them sneaking out of Chachery. I was just beginning to question them.”
“Question away,” said Crowdmother Chakk. “I’d like to see what they have to say for themselves.”
“We didn’t intend to do any harm,” spoke up Cilla. “We were just trying to get back home from Arenberg.”
“Indeed,” said Crowdmother Chakk, smiling beatifically. She waved a hand for Karll to proceed.
“Why is this Fringer so valuable to you?” asked Karll.
“She’s one of us,” said Kkiekk simply. “We weren’t going to leave her to freeze.”
“That’s worth enough to send four Clubeaters to rescue her?” Karll asked dubiously.
“Of course,” said Kkiekk. “After all, we just did.”
“But what made this Fringer so valuable?” asked Karll. “Is she someone’s woman, is she a weaponsmith, is she – what about her is worth sending four Clubeaters to rescue?”
“She is. She’s one of us,” Kkiekk repeated doggedly. He doubted Karll would believe him, but he had a stubborn streak and the skepticism of this arrogant Chachery Crowdson had awakened it.
“She’s our friend and we love her,” said Cilla, and Lukas seconded it. Akcia blushed.
“Karll,” Crowdmother Chakk interrupted as the Crowdson prepared to begin another round of questioning, “Don’t bother these people. Let them rest in my warmroom and send them on their way. No person who means harm would ever expect a lie like that to be believed, and whether they are our friends or our enemies, anyone who thinks a single Fringer worth risking four Clubeaters to rescue is a person worthy of respect – and certainly of freedom. Such a mentality is far too rare in our world.” He smiled at Kkiekk. “Ningka Parou. That is the friendword of Chachery Crowd. Say it to any of my Crowdeaters and they will befriend you.”
Kkeikk smiled back. “Anyone from Chachery will be our friend from now on.”
The Crowdmother opened the door herself, and her honor guard scrambled to get into the proper formation. “Good work, Karll. You did your duty here. Remember their example when you see a Fringer freezing to death.” With a nod to the other Crowdeaters in the warmroom, Nnan Chakk left.
As soon as he was gone, the tension in the warmroom bled out. Karll mopped his brow.
“’Good work,’ she tells me. And, ‘you should have been more lenient,’ she implies.” He turned to the Nalchery group. “Ningka Parou, she told you? You dare not reveal those words to anyone – if possible, keep even your own Clubfather in the dark. Those words are more valuable than the mantle of a Clubfather.”
“The Chachery Crowdmother approves of us, does she?” whispered Cilla after Karll was gone. “She seems like she’s got character. I like her, at any rate. She can’t be steering Chachery bad.”
“With over a thousand Crowdeaters alone, you wonder how anyone could be steering it at all,” observed Marokk dryly.
“She did some steering just now,” Lukas pointed out. “And we’re in favor of it, at least, regardless of what her subjects think of her driving skills.” He turned to Akcia. “How soon until you’re ready to move on?”
“It’s your decision,” Akcia replied.
“No,” countered Kkiekk, “It’s your decision. You’re the one who nearly froze to death and who doesn’t have defenses against the cold. We won’t move until you’re ready.”
“But… I’m not a Clubeater.”
“But you’re the one we’re waiting on. This rescue mission was for you.”
In the end, it was a joint decision between Akcia and Cilla, who felt her temperature and pronounced her to still be far too chilled. They stayed in the Chachery warmroom for a little over an hour, and then set out for home.
“Welcome back,” said Clubfather Nalkk as the five entered Nalchery’s central warmroom.
“Thank you, sir,” replied Kkiekk wearily. Despite having just rested in the Chachery warmroom, he was exhausted.
“Akcia,” said the Clubfather, “congratulations on surviving. You would have been missed.”
Akcia blushed. “Thank you, sir.”
“Well done all of you,” said Clubfather Nalkk. “You will have to tell the entire Club about your exploits, but until then, you must all rest. Your brother will be very happy to see you, Akcia. He came in here two hours after you left and begged to be allowed to go after you. I told him to go to bed, but I doubt he followed my advice.” He smiled, and dismissing the rescue team, headed back down to his apartments.
Kkiekk took off his Clubson jacket and pants and stretched himself out on his cot.
“Are you going to sleep?” asked Cilla.
“Yes,” Kkiekk yawned, wrapping himself in his blanket. “You’d better sleep, too.” You need to heal from where I dropped you, he thought, but it hurt him to think it and he didn’t say it.
“Good night, then,” said Cilla, moving towards the trapdoor that led to the Clubfather’s apartments.
“Good night,” Kkiekk replied. He paused. “You know, I wonder what that means – night.”
Cilla shrugged. “Who knows? It’s an old saying.” She smiled, opening the trapdoor, and began to climb down. “I love you, Kkiekk. And do you know why?”
“Not a clue, to be honest.”
“It’s not because you dropped me,” said Cilla playfully, but then she stopped. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease you there. But I don’t care about being dropped. I love you because I love you, Kkiekk; it’s because I’m in love with you and I love you that I love you.”
Kkiekk smiled. “I love you too, Cilla.”
“Good night,” they said at the same time. Cilla shut the trapdoor, and Kkiekk went to sleep.
The Auridium Harp 
Leave a comment