Part Three

Breakfast the next morning was a brief affair. Barnes wanted to get moving as quickly as possible. They had no idea how long it would take them to get across that river, and how long after that to reach the Chig base. And McQueen had been listening to the distant volcanic booming with greater and greater alarm. They needed to give themselves as much time as they humanly could.

There was some debate among the Wildcards as to whether or not they should just leave the camp set up as it was. After all, they were coming back to the same spot that evening. Or at any rate, that was the plan. McQueen let them bicker until they finished their coffee, then order them flatly to pack it all up.

"This is not a picnic," he reminded them gruffly. "We are still at war. We have been told that the enemy has abandoned this region. But we cannot know that for sure. We don't know *what* we may be facing, or if we will be able to return to this spot at all. To leave our gear is to lose it. You *know* that. I know some of you seem to think that this expedition is some kind of romantic side trip," he glared at Wang and Damphousse, "or some Boy Scout hike," he glared at Wang a little more. "But it is *neither*. You are Marines. Try to remember that. Now, let's get this done."

Looking chagrined, they broke camp in silence. If Barnes had any thoughts about the dressing down, she did not voice them, though. It was not even obvious that she had heard. Quiet and preoccupied, she left the details of breaking camp to McQueen. Which was fine with him. He knew she was already klicks ahead of them, traveling to that place where she would need her full concentration on the tasks before her. So he buttoned up the baggage and let her be.

The river crossing turned out to relatively uneventful, at least until Hawkes announced that he could not swim. It took him three tries to set the grapple, but once he did, it only took a small discussion to determine who would be first over to set a second line.

"Look," said Vansen after a moment, "I'm the smallest, and the lightest. I'll put the least amount of stress on a single line. Besides, I was my high school champ at the Individual Medley. I go."

She went, securing both the grapple, and a second line on the other side. The she called McQueen on her helmet radio. "The current in the middle is wicked," she said. "And those lines won't really hold you if you fall. You've *got* to be careful. Take small steps, keep your center of gravity low."

McQueen acknowledged, and sent them over, one by one. The others crossed without incident until it was Hawkes turn. He just walked to the edge of the river, then stopped.

"What's wrong, Hawkes?" McQueen asked, eyeing the gray-faced Marine. Hawkes just stared at the churning water.

"Can't swim," he croaked.

Damn, thought McQueen. "So don't fall in," was what he said. He knew it would do no good to indulge Cooper's phobia, if that was what it was. Not right then. But he made a mental note to throw the kid in the 'Toga's lap pool as soon as they got back, and teach him to swim. It was not uncommon for In Vitros to fear the water - birth memories, no matter how well suppressed, were always with them - but it was something that could be overcome. McQueen had managed.

"Just keep your hands on the lines, and don't look at the water. Take it slow, like Vansen said, and you'll be fine. Move!" He barked the command and Hawkes reacted automatically, as McQueen knew he would. He leapt forward, grabbed the line in one hand and started walking. He was well out into the river before it dawned on him where he was. He froze.

Besides being star of her high school swim team, Vansen had spent summers as a life guard and swimming instructor. She knew what was wrong with Hawkes right away.

"Cooper!" she shouted. "Coop! Look at me. Don't look at the water..."

Hawkes stared at the rapids swirling below him.

"Hawkes!" McQueen shouted. "Listen to Vansen."

"Coop, I can't come out there after you. It's too dangerous, and those lines won't hold us both," Vansen told him. They probably would not hold one of them, they were really just there to provide some balance, but she did not remind him of that. "You're gonna have to do this yourself. Come on, one foot in front of the other... Don't look down."

Hawkes moved slowly, hesitantly. Slipped a little. Stopped. McQueen held his breath, helpless to do anything. On the other bank, Vansen grabbed West's hand, and stepped out into the water. She held out her other hand to Hawkes.

"Come on Cooper, you're almost home. Just a few more steps and I can reach you. Come on, grab my hand..."

It was purely psychological, there was no way she could pull him out if he fell, but it was all he needed. He took the last few steps until his hand closed around Vansen's forearm, and then he jumped, falling, and pulled her to the ground. He nearly crushed her, but he was on dry land. McQueen started breathing again. He looked down at Barnes.

"Ladies first." She quirked a smile at him, and grabbed the line.

McQueen followed, using Vansen's shoulder to steady himself on the other side. He gave it a quick squeeze before he let go.

"Good job bringing him in, Vansen," he said, meaning it. "Did he hurt you."

Vansen smiled under the praise. "No, sir, I'm fine. But somebody's gotta teach him how to swim..."

The ground on the other side of the river began to steadily upwards, and the jungle thin, not too far into their hike. McQueen suspected, but did not voice, that they had begun to climb the lower slopes of the volcano, itself. They could also feel the ground tremors under their feet now, not enough to slow them down, but enough to make them uneasy. The rumbling got progressively worse as the morning progressed, and then it stopped altogether.

"Is that a good sign or a bad one," McQueen asked Barnes. She shrugged, but she did not look happy.

"I have no idea."

The ground pitched suddenly, beneath their feet, saving McQueen from further comment. Barnes fell against him and he grabbed her.

"Tell me again why we're doing this?" she groused, trying to regain her feet.

"Beats the hell outa me," McQueen answered. "This was *your* idea,.."

"Sir!" Vansen called from the front of the column. "Target in sight, sir."

Barnes pushed to the head of the column, McQueen right behind her. They stopped at the edge of a clearing. Before them loomed the structure - or rather, *stretched* the structure; a low black building that looked more like it had been grown out of the rock, than built there. Behind it, and to one side, they could see other, smaller buildings. And farther behind those, still, loomed the mountain - ominous, menacing; its crown obsured by a dense pewter-colored cloud. Ash and steam streamed outward to the north-east. They stared at it for a moment, awestruck, then turned their attentions back to the Chig base. There were no markings that they could see on the buildings, and nothing to indicate use, but that foremost structure seemed to be the main headquarters, if they could make any judgments based on size. The hatch was open and unguarded. Barnes looked up at McQueen. He nodded to her, and they lifted weapons to ready.

"Let's go," he hissed softly, and they headed out, dog-trotting across the narrow clearing, and surrounded the door. Vansen popped a grenade, and at McQueen's nod, tossed it inside. Once the smoke cleared, they filed in warily. The center hall was low, the walls glowing faintly with some sort of bio-luminous light. It was not enough light to see by. Hawkes thumbed on his flashlight, and the others followed suit. They were standing in a large antechamber of some kind. A single entrance hatch arched before them, with Chig characters on the lintel and what looked almost like decorative carvings on the posts.

West beamed his flashlight at the Chig characters. "I wonder what it says."

Barnes squinted up at the lintel. "My guess is it's probably a sign for this entrance. That character at the top may indicate an opening or portal, and those on the side... a directional indicator, maybe. Like 'north entrance', or something like that." She spoke offhandedly, not considering the impact her words would have on her companions.

"You read Chig?" Hawkes finally blurted in alarm. Barnes turned to him surprise, took in the startled expressions around her, and laughed out loud.

"No," she assured them, "no, not at all. I can recognize a few common characters, that's all." She hesitated as they stared at her, open-mouthed, then turned to McQueen and found him eyeing her with undisguised astonishment. She knew she had better explain.

"The guys in Linguistics have been trying to work up a lexicon from what we have of captured Chig documents. I've had a look at it, that's all." She turned back to the doorway. "See that one at the top, with the sort of broken "S" shape, flanked by the angled verticals? That broken "S" is a fairly common element. They think it might mean an opening of some sort, a hatch, or a hole, or even a greeting, depending on what verticals are associated with it."

"They're ideograms," McQueen said, suddenly understanding. He no longer sounded astonished. He stepped closer, trying to get a better look.

"That's the current thinking," Barnes agreed, remembering McQueen's facility with oriental languages, which operated along similar principles. "Of course, they may be wrong."

But McQueen shook his head. "It makes sense," he replied. "And you say there's a lexicon?"

"They're working on it. I've only seen a little bit. Thought I might need to recognize a few things, for this mission."

"Can you get me a copy?" McQueen asked, offhand, studiously not looking at her, still staring at the doorway. Barnes chuckled.

"That information is classified mucho compartmentalized, Colonel," she teased him. "I can't even get *me* a copy of it. But I'm working on it," she added in conspiratorial tones.

As if in protest to this statement the ground rumbled beneath them, shaking the wall slightly. McQueen shook himself back to reality.

"Let's get this done," he said. "This planet's not getting any more stable." They nodded and stepped through the hatch into a long corridor. It was lit with the same bio-luminous glow.

"Colonel," Damphousse said after a moment, "this doesn't exactly look like what we found on that Chig bomber..." She pointed at some devise near an adjoining hatchway.

McQueen peered at it. "Yeah, well, maybe the bomber was a specialty class..."

"No," Barnes said from the opposite corner. She appeared to be looking at some kind of control box. "She's right. There are a lot of Earth-type electronics in these components." McQueen came up beside her, looked. He grunted in agreement.

"AI influence?" he ventured. Barnes glanced up at him, and nodded.

"That would be my guess," she agreed. "Which doesn't exactly give me warm and fuzzies for the larger picture, but it might make my immediate task a little easier..." She looked around. "All right, Marines, let's go make sure we've got an empty building, here. If it moves, shoot it, otherwise, don't touch anything. We don't know what little surprises the Chigs might have left for us before they bugged out. Anybody finds anything looks like it might be the control room, give a holler."

The Five-Eight broke up, and headed out down corridors stretching from both sides of the central artery. Barnes cocked a smile up at McQueen. "Colonel?"

"After you," he nodded.

The control room was at the end of the central artery, in what was probably the middle of the structure. The walls illuminated as they walked in.

"Let there be light," Barnes said under her breath. She thumbed off her flashlight, and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, she turned a full three-sixty in the middle of the room, nodded to herself. She handed the flashlight to McQueen, her expression taking on an absent, almost glazed look. McQueen watched in fascination as she scanned the banks of towering lights, began walking slowly around. Searching. Finally, she stopped in front of a large, curved mound, and nodded slowly to herself. McQueen walked up beside her.

"Find what you were looking for?"

"I think so," Barnes replied, but her voice sounded sure.

McQueen looked at what he guessed was whatever passed for the main terminal of whatever was the Chig equivalent of a central computer.

"Can you turn it on?"

Barnes shrugged. "Maybe if I fondle it for a while..."

She glanced at McQueen out of the corner of her eye. "Now, I just have to figure out if you walked into that one, or set me up for it..."

"I never walk into anything, Major," McQueen deadpanned. Barnes grinned. Then she took a deep breath, her expression suddenly serious.

"Colonel," she began slowly. "I'm going to have to ask you to take the Five-Eight back outside and get them under cover." She turned to him fully. "If this thing's booby-trapped, it'll blow when I boot it."

McQueen just looked at her. The beginning of the hard decisions. He had known when she had first spoken the words that this was what she had meant by them. He also knew that there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Nothing he could do to protect her. She meet his eyes. All of his rationalizations, all of his grand resolve, just evaporated. This woman *mattered*. Whether he liked it or not. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, anything. Delay the moment, say... he did not know what to say. A small smile touched her mouth, and she nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Go on," she whispered.

McQueen closed his mouth, and nodded once. He touched the headset in his helmet. "Wildcards this is Queen Six. Report to the main hatch immediately."

There was a crackle of 'aye, sirs.' McQueen looked down at Barnes, who was already staring at the terminal mound, her hands hovering slightly, thoughtfully. He took a step toward the door, then stopped and closed his hand around her arm. Barnes pressed her hand over his, and closed her eyes. For a moment, neither moved. Then Barnes exhaled sharply, and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Go on, get outa here," she insisted. McQueen nodded, and left.

As soon as McQueen left the control room, Barnes put him out of her mind. She put out the confusion, the need, the uncertainty. Put out the Five Eight, the volcano, the miserable jungle, her own fears. Everything except the task before her. She lowered her hands slowly over the raised mound in the center of what she hoped was the control console. The mound began to hum softly, and Chig characters lit up before her. She nodded and moved her hands again. More humming followed the movement, and more Chig characters, unlike the ones over the doorway. Linguistics had named these markings "quanti-cators" because they seemed to indicate some sort of quantifying characteristics, although they did not seem to translate into "numbers" exactly.

Barnes had not been entirely truthful when she told the Wildcards earlier that she had only had a glance at the Chig lexicon. It was true that she did not own one - there was only one copy - but she had spent many long hours studying it, developing and running the programs that helped decipher the terms that seemed most closely associated with Chig information technology. Trying to identify Chig machine language. Now she would find out just how successful she had been.

She found something to sit on, and dropped her pack onto the floor. Working deliberately, she removed and assembled several components into what appeared to be a small computer, set the device down on the console beside her and activated it. With this she could access the orbiting MIRG and hopefully work through any glitches she ran into. She turned back to the Chig console, raised her hands again, and began what for all the world sounded like playing some ghastly symphony.

If some part of her mind was waiting to be blown to bits, was not apparent.

McQueen regrouped the Five-Eight outside, back in the tree line, and touched his helmet mike again.

"This is Queen Six. Five-Eight is secure."

It still took a minute for someone to realize that Barnes was not with them.

"Where's the Major?" It was Wang who asked the question. After a hesitation, Vansen answered.

"She's still inside. I guess she wanted us out of harm's way, in case that Chig mainframe's booby-trapped."

McQueen nodded slightly, and moved a little bit away from them, closer to the edge of the clearing, where he could better watch.

"You mean, that thing might blow?" Hawkes demanded, finally getting it. "And you left her in there?"

"Shut up, Coop!" Vansen snapped. "It's the Major's job." She watched McQueen for a moment, as he stood stiffly waiting. Making a decision, she walked over beside him, and stood by his shoulder. She did not say anything, she did not touch him. She just stood there. Offering solidarity. Offering understanding. Offering support.

McQueen did not look at her, but he knew she was there. And he knew why. Gradually, the others came also, first Damphousse, then West and Wang. Hawkes. They stood around him silently, and he felt their comfort, their caring. He felt a slight tightness behind his eyes, and blinked. Time passed with interminable slowness, the silence from the Chig outpost was bloodcurdling. For almost half an hour they just stood there, watching, hardly breathing. Then McQueen's headset crackled.

"Queen Six, this is the Queen of Hearts. I'm in, and since it does not look like my day to play roman candle, I think it's safe to come back inside. One at a time, and carefully. I don't think I've tripped off anything, but let's be sure."

The Five-Eight issued a collective sigh. McQueen did not show any visible reaction, but he turned to Vansen.

"Stay here," he commanded, and he went back inside. He found Barnes hunched over the Chig terminal. She was activating the Chig equipment while simultaneously keying what looked like a small Earth Forces computer. McQueen squatted down at her side.

"How's it lookin'?"

"Pretty good," Barnes replied. "Damphousse was right, too, there is definitely some AI influence in this design..."

"How long do you think it will take to complete the download?"

Barnes shrugged. "Ninety mikes. Maybe a little longer. It seems to be moving pretty fast. But it looks like I'm going to have to stay here and nurse it through. I can't get it to go automatically. For some reason, it dies the minute I move my hands away."

McQueen nodded. "The bomber we found was like that. You need a hand?"

Barnes turned and looked down at him. "I don't think so," she admitted. "I'm kind making this up as I go along..."

McQueen smiled a little. "You know, I was thinking... If the main computer wasn't booby-trapped, the chances are pretty good they didn't take time to rig anything else. I'm sure somebody back home would be interested in all this bastard technology. In ninety mikes we could have ourselves quite a little treasure hunt..."

Barnes smiled and nodded. "I think that's a good idea. Just watch you six, and don't pull out anything that looks like computer components. We don't want to bring this thing down, now that I've finally figured out how to make it work..."

"So. Ask."

McQueen sat on his pack in a small room in one of the several outbuildings on the Chig compound. He unfastened a face plate from the wall, and began handing unidentifiable devices to Hawkes, who was squatting beside him.

"Sir?" the boy answered.

"This burning question you're dyin' to ask me. Ask it. You're not usually shy, Hawkes."

Hawkes looked down at his hands. "Ain't none of my business," he mumbled. McQueen nodded.

"Probably not. But I'm inviting you to ask it, anyway." He had finally decided that the was tired of the boy's ambiguous glances; he knew what Hawkes wanted to ask. And for some perverse reason, he found himself *wanting* to talk about it.

"Major Barnes," Hawkes began.

"What about her?" McQueen asked calmly, digging into the wall.

"You served together... in the AI wars. Like she said."

McQueen nodded, and handed him another mysterious component.

"Were you lovers?" Hawkes suddenly blurted. McQueen almost smiled at the abruptness. He shook his head.

"No. We weren't lovers. We were, we *are*, friends." He rocked back a little and rested his hands on his legs. "Cooper, do you have any idea what you have in the 58th? How rare that is? Back when I was first in the Corps, the IV platoons were barracked away from everyone else on the base. We trained separately, we ate separately. We were lead by natural born officers, but no one else had much to do with us. We were outcast, despised. Things were better by the time I went to the 127th. I had my reputation as a fighter to fall back on. At least I had their respect, if not their undying affection. But early on...

"After a few years in the platoons," McQueen looked thoughtful, " I don't know, I guess somebody decided I has some ability because I put in a request to transfer to the Air Cavalry, and it was granted. I got sent to OCS out of flight school based on my rating, and because there was starting to be some flack about In Vitros being used as cannon fodder. I guess somebody decided a few 'tank' officers would silence the protests. I went to the 42nd out of Quantico.

"As a great author once said, it was the best of times, and the worst of times. Flying was *everything* I ever wanted to do. But for the first time since I'd been out of the tank I was almost completely isolated from other In Vitros. Separated from my own kind. My natural born squad mates..." He did not have to fill in the blanks, Hawkes just nodded.

"Anjelica... Major Barnes, tried to bridge that gap. To reach out. Not just in the spirit of human decency, which would have been enough, but because she cared."

He looked a little wistful, and Hawkes squinted at him.

"You were in love with her." It was not a question. McQueen looked at him in surprise.

"Yeah," he admitted, flatly. "I suppose I was."

"So, what was the problem? Was it because you're In Vitro?"

McQueen looked over at the boy. "Well, mostly, I think, it was because she was already engaged to somebody else."

Hawkes made face. "That sucked," he responded indignantly. McQueen grimaced half a smile at him. Then he looked at Hawkes seriously.

"I've never had what you have with the 58th, Cooper. I've never felt the complete acceptance, the complete love, of my peers." He turned back to the hole in the wall. "The friendship Major Barnes offered was something very special."

Hawkes thought about that. He looked at the bag of odd parts on the floor between himself and his Colonel.

"You still in love with her?" he ventured. McQueen paused. He knew the boy was not trying to pry. He was trying, almost desperately, to understand. To catch up on so many missed years of childhood learning, of adolescence that would have taught him much of this. McQueen shivered involuntarily, wondering if he was up to the task of filling this boy's great need. Knowing that if he was not, no one *else* would do it.

"I don't know, Cooper," he admitted, honestly. "A lot of years have gone by. We've both been married to other people... I still care about her, though."

"How could you let her do it, then?" Hawkes suddenly demanded. "How could you just sit back and let her almost blow herself to bits?"

McQueen sighed. "Let me ask you something," he turned the tables. "You're close to Vansen. You care about what happens to her. And you respect her. You respect her abilities and her judgement."

Hawkes eyed his CO warily but he nodded, and McQueen pushed on.

"Let's say she had a mission, one vital to the war effort, and one to which she was wholly committed. A dangerous mission, with great risks. What would you do? What would you do if she had to make a decision upon which the whole success of that mission hinged, but which put her life in great danger? She might very likely die. But she was committed to the decision, and the risk. Do you respect her enough to let her make it? Do you care enough about her to say 'semper fi' and get out of the way?"

Hawkes looked at McQueen, and actually lost a little color as he thought about it. "That's hard, Colonel," he said finally, his voice a little shaky. McQueen nodded.

"It's damned hard, Hawkes. It's the hardest thing you'll ever do in your life."

Hawkes looked stricken, his face working. He swallowed hard. McQueen got to his feet, and grabbed his pack.

"Come on," he said. "We've milked this hole dry. Let's find the others. It's almost ninety mikes."

They met Vansen and Damphousse coming across the "courtyard" just as the ground gave its most aggressive heave yet, knocking them off their feet. Then it split between them, and tore a long fissure open, right through the Chig camp. McQueen had to scramble to keep from falling in.

"Regroup!" he shouted, as he lifted Vansen back to her feet. "Find West and Wang. It's time to get out of here!"

"Colonel, look!" Hawkes cried, pointing. McQueen turned. Black smoke billowed from the mountain behind them.

"Colonel," shouted Wang, as he and West emerged from the building to the right.

"Come on, we're leaving," McQueen commanded, trying to keep his feet under him as the ground rocked. "Barnes!" he snapped into his helmet mike. "This volcano's gonna blow. We're outa here! Now!"

The Wildcards could not hear Barnes answer, but they could see the shocked look on McQueen's face. He looked at them, open mouthed, for a moment. Then he grabbed Vansen's arm.

"Get them back into the trees and wait..." he never finished his sentence as a tell-tale thrumming suddenly filled the air.

"Chigs!" Wang shouted.

"Take cover, take cover!!" screamed McQueen as the Chig fighters bore down on them. They leapt as the weapons fire tore up the ground.

"Where the hell did *they* come from?" Wang demanded.

"Maybe some other part of the planet, they must be monitoring this place or something..." McQueen ducked down as they made another pass.

"Do you think there are ground forces?" asked Vansen evenly.

"I don't know. Let's hope not..."

The volcano rumbled and belched a heavier column of ash into the air, cutting of the rest of McQueen's reply. Small bits of cinder and pumice rained down on them.

"Get into the trees and wait for me," McQueen told Vansen, and he raced back into the Chig command center. Vansen watched him disappear inside. Then she turned to the others.

"Let's do it, you heard the Colonel!" They retreated into the trees.

McQueen burst into the Chig headquarters control room. "We're leaving. Now!" he barked.

Barnes did not even hesitate. "I need ten minutes."

McQueen stared, dumbfounded. "We're being strafed by Chig fighters, that volcano's ready to cook off - we don't *have* ten minutes!"

Barnes turned and looked at him this time. "Chigs? Ground troops?"

McQueen shook his head. Barnes nodded, then her face took on that same vague, distant expression, and she turned back to her task.

McQueen pursed his lips. "Major... that's an order!"

"I have to finish this download," she replied evenly. "I told you, the thing doesn't work without direct contact. Like your Chig bomber. If I leave now, it will all have been a waste. The link will fail."

"It will fail, anyway, if this building collapses on you!" McQueen argued. "Then what will you have accomplished?" As if to punctuate his statement, the quake shook the walls around them hard. Barnes grabbed the console to keep from falling.

"A. J.!" The name tore from him. For a moment they just looked at each other, aching with words neither one would say. And for an instant, McQueen thought he saw her waiver. Then she turned back to her work.

"I need ten minutes to finish this. I can't quit, now. The longer we argue the less time we have. Get them out of here. I'll catch up as soon as this is done."

"King of Hearts to Queen Six," West's voice interrupted over McQueen's helmet mike. "Colonel, we've got more incoming..."

"Go," said Barnes. "If I don't catch up with you before, I'll meet you at the base camp tonight."

McQueen stared at her for one more moment, his expression somewhere between fury and desperation. But he knew there was no moving her, unless he threw her over his shoulder and carried her out. He considered that option briefly, then disgarded it. But he had to get the Wildcards out. With one last desperate look at Barnes, he turned on his heels and left. An explosion met him at the door; he could not tell if it was the Chigs or the volcano. He ducked his head and sprinted across the clearing into the trees.

"How many?" he asked West as he halted beside him.

"Three fighters, the same ones I think," West replied. "No ground forces that we've seen. I guess they won't risk that even to protect their base. Vansen's got the rest of the Five-Eight in position in the trees..."

McQueen nodded. "Must be sentries..."

West looked at him. "Where's the Major?" he asked, almost gently. McQueen swallowed and took a deep breath.

"She'll follow us as soon as she's finished..."

West hesitated, and McQueen could see the depth of understanding in the younger man's eyes. It almost undid him. Then West nodded.

"Let's get out of here," McQueen said.

Vansen had them all together, waiting. McQueen nodded a wordless command. No one asked where Barnes was, though both Hawkes and Vansen looked for moment like they might. McQueen forestalled them, waving them back toward the trail they had blazed earlier that morning. The weather was getting too heavy around them to talk anyway. Hot volcanic winds began rippling through the trees, as the mountain continued to thunder threateningly behind them. The ground shuttered under their feet, making it difficult to stay upright. But the Chigs could not strafe them once they made it under the cover of the jungle canopy, so they just stumbled and ran.

It was Damphousse who saw it, and stopped them. They had just breasted a small rise before entering the depths of the jungle, and the trees over their heads were thin. Damphousse had turned to watch the sky for incoming Chigs. She did not find fighters, but...

"Colonel! Look!"

They stopped a moment, looking. The whole top of the mountain was glowing in the distance. Then it roared, and threw its guts up into the air, filling the sky with a pillar of black ash and cinder. Lightening danced in riot up the column of smoke. Another violent explosion and they could see the east face of the mountain collapse, pouring molten matter down the slope, a thick black cloud of burning gases tumbling over it, igniting everything in its path. McQueen stared at it, stricken, as shock waves wretched them to their knees.

"It's blowing off the side away from the Chig base, sir," West said softly. "If she got out before it blew, she'll have a chance. Do you want to wait here for her?"

McQueen did not answer immediately. Instead he touched his helmet radio, but there was nothing but static. Too much charge in the air. He shook his head in answer to West's question. Their own heading was south-south east. While they were not in the direct path of the ash and gases, they were too much on the wrong side of the mountain for his comfort. He had to get them to safety. That was his first responsibility. Barnes was in the hands of fate and her own ingenuity. There was nothing he could do for her, now.

"She'll meet us at the base camp, if she doesn't catch up with us before," he said, shaking his head. "We've got to get out of here." He turned and lead them down into the trees.

Had she been able to leave the Chig encampment by the same route as the Wildcards, Barnes probably would have caught up with them within the hour. But when she finally emerged from the Chig command center, the fighters where waiting, and drove her into the trees to the west of the camp. After that, it was the volcano that guided her footsteps. Or rather the ground quakes which dropped trees before her, or tore the ground away in her path. The only thing that saved her, when the volcano finally blew, was the fact that she was traveling in the exact opposite direction of the explosion - almost due west. The wind was blowing the ash column away from her, and the nuee ardente, the super-heated cloud of gases that tumbled down the mountain with the lava went a different way. Had she gone in the direction she had originally intended, she would have been caught in the initial gust of incinerating wind, and burned to death.

Barnes touched her helmet mike, trying to reach McQueen, to assure him that she was still breathing, and that she would catch up with him whe she could. But the radio just fed her back static; there was too much charge in the air. Pulling her field compass out of her pack, she tried to take her bearings. It was not as sensitive as the instrument Damphousse carried, nor was it programmable. Just a plain old compass, but it might be enough to get her out. Then, to be on the safe side, she dug her gas mask out of her pack, too. She took her bearings, and changed her direction accordingly. She was heading back to where she thought the river was when the ground under her feet screamed, cracked open and threw a towering pinnacle up before her out of its depths. Barnes staggered under the force of the rendering, fell backwards, and hit her head. Had she been conscious, she would have seen the great tree that toppled toward her as the ground buckled. But she was not.

Next : Part Four

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