Get in touch with her, says Brawne Lamia. Explain things.
Ive tried. The Consul holds the comlog in his hands, sets it back in the pack. No response. Also, I mentioned in the original squirt that Hoyt was badly hurt and that we needed medical help. I wanted the ships surgery ready for him.
Hurt, repeats Martin Silenus, striding back to where they huddled. Shit. Our padre friend is dead as Glennon-Heights dog. He jerks his thumb in the direction of the cloak-wrapped body; all monitor displays are red.
Brawne Lamia bends closer and touches Hoyts cheek. It is cold.
Both his comlog biomonitor and the medpak begin chirping brain-death warnings. The osmosis mask continues to force pure 02 into his lungs, and the medpak simulators still work his lungs and heart, but the chirping rises to a scream and then settles to a steady, terrible tone.
He lost too much blood, says Sol Weintraub. He touches the dead priests face, his own eyes closed, head bowed.
Great, says Silenus. Fucking great. And according to his own story, Hoyts going to decompose and recompose, thanks to that goddamned cruciform thing two of the goddamn things, the guys rich in resurrection insurance and then come lurching back like some brain-damaged edition of Hamlets daddys ghost. What are we going to do then?
Shut up, says Brawne Lamia. She is wrapping Hoyts body in a layer of tarp she has brought from the tent.
Shut up yourself, screams Silenus. Weve got one monster lurking around.
Old Grendel himself is out there somewhere, sharpening his nails for his next meal, do you really want Hoyts zombie joining our happy crew? You remember how he described the Bikura? Theyd been letting the cruciforms bring them back for centuries, and talking to one of them was like talking to an ambulatory sponge. Do you really want Hoyts corpse hiking with us?
Two, says the Consul.
What? Martin Silenus whirls, loses his footing, and lands on his knees near the body. He leans toward the old scholar. What did you say?
Two cruciforms, says the Consul. His and Father Paul Durés. If his story about the Bikura was true, then theyll both be resurrected.
Oh, Christ on a stick, says Silenus and sits in the sand.
Brawne Lamia has finished wrapping the priests body. She looks at it. I remember that in Father Durés story about the Bikura named Alpha, she says. But I still dont understand. The Law of Conservation of Mass has to come in there somewhere.
Theyll be short zombies, says Martin Silenus. He pulls his fur coat tighter and pounds the sand with his fist.
There is so much we could have learned if the ship had arrived, says the Consul. The autodiagnostics could have He pauses and gestures. Look. There is less sand in the air. Perhaps the storm is
Lightning flashes, and it begins to rain, the icy pellets striking their faces with more fury than the sandstorm had shown.
Martin Silenus begins to laugh. Its a fucking desert! he shouts toward the sky. Well probably drown in a flood.
We need to get out of this, says Sol Weintraub. His babys face is visible between the gaps in his cloak. Rachel is crying; her face is very red. She looks no older than a newborn.
Keep Chronos? says Lamia. Its a couple of hours
Too far, says the Consul. Lets bivouac in one of the Tombs.
Silenus laughs again. He says:
That means fucking 'why not?' laughs Silenus. Why make it hard for our cold muse to find us? We can watch our friend decompose while we wait. How long did Durés tale say it took for one of the Bikura to rejoin the flock after death interrupted their grazing?
Three days, says the Consul.
Martin Silenus slaps his forehead with the heel of his palm. Of course. How could I forget? How wonderfully fitting. New Testament-wise. In the meantime, maybe our Shrike-wolf will carry off a few of this flock. Do you think the padre would mind if I borrowed one of his cruciforms just in case? I mean, he has a spare
Lets go, says the Consul. Rain drips from his tricorne cap in a steady stream. Well stay in the Sphinx until morning. Ill carry Kassads extra gear and the Möbius cube. Brawne, you carry Hoyts things and Sols pack. Sol, you keep the baby warm and dry.
What about the padre? asks the poet, jerking his thumb in the direction of the body.
Youre carrying Father Hoyt, Brawne Lamia says softly, turning.
Martin Silenus opens his mouth, sees the pistol in Lamias hand, shrugs, and bends to lift the body to his shoulder. Whos going to carry Kassad when we find him? he asks. Of course, he could be in enough pieces that we could all
Please shut up, Brawne Lamia says tiredly. If I have to shoot you, it will give us one more thing to carry. Just walk.
With the Consul leading, Weintraub coming closely behind, Martin Silenus staggering along some meters back, and Brawne Lamia in the rear, the group once again descends the low col into the Valley of the Tombs.