Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) by N.P. Beckwith Page B

genuinely confused.  I felt a tiny chill pass through me,
and decided to direct the conversation elsewhere.  First I picked myself up off
the ground. 
     
    "So,
as long as I'm here, is there anything I can do to help?"
     
    "Not
likely," she said.  "Unless of course you have a degree in aviation
repair."
     
    "Sorry,
no.  Does Doog?" I asked, expecting a negative response.
     
    "No. 
But he is strong enough to carry heavy things.  Which I can see you are
not."  That one stung a little.  "Anyway, I've heard some strange
things about you over the course of the evening.  That you've come back from
the dead, or from another planet or something.  That you're really important. 
Aren't you supposed to be supervised at all times?"
     
    "I'm
nobody special.  And I can take care of myself," I said.
     
    "Still,
I don't think Reya'd be too happy if I let you wander about in the woods alone
at night.  You'd better stick with me 'n' Doog for now."
     
    It
became my job to keep watch, for either Magus’ scouts or unwelcome company from
the camp.  I climbed a medium-sized white pine that had taken  root amidst the
smaller spruce, and found myself a comfortable perch that afforded views in all
directions.  Maya set about fixing the chopper, occasionally asking Doog for a
part or handing him one she’d removed.  At first it was too dark to see much of
anything, unless someone happened our way with a torch.  But by now dawn was
already frosting the horizon beyond the farthest treetops, and soon beams of
sunlight were penetrating every gap in the forest’s cover and warming its leafy
carpet.  I could easily see a quarter mile into the surrounding woods in any
given direction.  I spotted a small herd of puurr-deer grazing on the budding
upper foliage to the southwest, and a family of pheasants just to our west. 
Otherwise, nothing stirred.  Below me, Maya continued her work, which to my
untrained eyes looked more like dismantling than repairing.  But she had gotten
it in the air and flown it here, so I presumed she knew what she was doing. 
Her face and hands were starting to collect streaks of grease anew.  
     
    Suddenly
she shouted.  “Oh no!”  I nearly fell from the tree.  When I recovered, I
quickly scanned the surrounding woods for an approaching threat, but saw
nothing. 
     
    “What’s
the matter?” I called down.
     
    “The
black tube thingy is ruined!  It’s melted right through, I don’t think I can
fix it.”
     
    “So
is that it?” I asked.  “No more air support?”
     
    “Well,
I saw a town on my way in, just a couple of miles to the south.  Looked like an
old mill town.  It won’t have helicopter parts, of course, but we may be able
to find something that will work.”
     
    “Are
towns safe?” I asked.
     
    “Not
always.  Most of the cities are patrolled periodically by a contingent of
Magus’ troops.  But smaller towns can be kind of a mixed bag.  Usually not
Magus’ people, but the locals sometimes have their own agendas.  This was a
pretty small town I saw, so it might be abandoned, or it might be OK,” Maya
said.
     
    “Or
it might not,” I added helpfully.
     
    “Or
it might not.  But we’ve got Doog.  That’s a pretty good backup plan right
there.”  Doog was smiling.
     
    “OK,”
I said.  “Now the question of transport.  I saw some puurr-deer nearby.  But we
don’t know how…”  I was almost toppled from my perch again as a startling but
familiar, hollow sound issued forth from the lungs of the young woman below
me.  “I thought your faction weren’t familiar with the puurr-deer?”
     
    “Of
course we know them!” exclaimed Maya.  “We wouldn’t have lasted as long as we
have against Magus’ hordes if we didn’t.  I just normally prefer mechanical
forms of mobility.”  That seemed somehow fitting.
     
    A
pair of the great animals trotted into view.  “How’d you happen to get two?” I
asked. 
     
    “”You
don’t speak