"Smart man. Nothing good comes from playing saviour" was all Ristachev responded to Eli before Christine caught his attention again.
"Being strung up from a lamppost will teach you to learn to swallow some humble pie, my dear." Lamppost... So it's not just a story. I wonder how he survived that. But despite the grim subject and his less-than-ideal condition, he managed another smile that, somehow, didn't seem awkward - only a little bloody. "But I'm sure whoever I have to thank for that isn't half as captivating as you, Miss Christine. So I'm afraid you'll find yourself suffering the brunt of my affections."
"'Miss Christine', was it? I doubt Jane Austen's characters had to deal with cryostasis or injured former politicians and convicts." She shook her head in mock-exasperation at his flattery and smiled back at him. A small voice in the back of her head warned her of getting too close, of trusting somebody because she wanted to trust him. Nothing wrong with flirting a little.
She moved him over to the chamber and slowly set him down as the old man came over to help, making the entire affair smoother... until he started talking. The scene he described made Christine's hand, still resting on Ristachev's shoulder, twitch in anger. She had heard rumors about people who kidnapped people for a fee. It was one thing to kill a person, to act out of passion or conviction, but to deliver somebody to their supposed murderer was disgusting.
Still, she managed to hide her displeasure and Ristachev's response gave her the time to regain her composure.
"I'm managing, but if you have anything strong and bitter then I'd be most grateful."
His attempt at an angelic appearance didn't help with her impression of him but what he said wasn't wrong and it would be a while longer until Elmina and the computer guy came back. So she left the Russian's side to be more visible.
"Okay, let's talk about navigation. Look around." She raised her hands and pointed at the woods around them. And really, it was the first time that day that she herself took a moment to look at her surroundings.
The smell of moist soil, herbs and fresh resin; the gentle cool you only felt in the shadow of a tree, never in the concrete jungle; the familiar sight of berry bushes and plants - poisonous and edible - and the soothing flicker of light through the thick crown of the trees... It woke memories more vivid than even the flashes she had seen before her inner eye when she remembered her last months before cryostasis, images of her childhood, fragments of her youth and adult life. They feelings they evoked were mixed, to say the least: She was caught somewhere between nostalgia and terror.
"See the greenish grey stuff on the trees? That is moss, ladies and gentlemen, and the key to finding your way around here. It only grows on the side that's averted from the sun but that could be both north and south, if you don't know which side of the globe you're on. So, where are we? Anybody wanna take a guess?"
Christine didn't really expect anybody to answer but she gave them a second anyway. She wasn't entirely sure if it occurred to them but to her, it became clear once more: They were waiting for her to continue. Even those that feigned disinterest had their ears pricked. Nobody talked; not even a whisper disturbed the silence, with the Apox too far away for its sounds to reach them and all wildlife that called this forest their home scared away by the crash. They were all city-based criminals, all except for the Beast and Christine.
"Well, as you may have noticed, we are in a mixed forest, which are more common in the Northern hemisphere. But I actually recognize some of the plants and trees around here, so unless these species can be found in Europe too, I'm 99% sure that we're in the North America, which basically means United States - up north, the woods look different. So, in short: The moss tells you where north is. The opposite direction is south, to the right you have east, and to the left, west - you've all heard those before. Knowing what directions everybody's talking about is half the trick."
Christine gave each of them a glance, to make sure that they understood. Something was off, bothering her, but she couldn't put her finger on it; her instructions were simple, almost mechanic, recounted as she had been taught, but her conscious mind was still preoccupied with memories of her last few trips into the wild.
She continued:
"The other half is points of reference. For example, the giant column of smoke from the Apox", she nodded south, towards the blackened sky. "Once we get a move on, you wanna look out for mountains, hills, special trees and rocks that stand out and tell you where you are - it helps with getting a sense of distance and relative position. There's a lot more to surviving out here but not getting lost is..."
Then it hit her. Somebody was missing. The Maori? She thought she had seen him, at the fringes of this little clearing, but there was somebody else...
"Where's Laura?"
The blonde with the other gun was gone. And then, she heard a gunshot in the distance. Suddenly, she felt very, very vulnerable. What's taking so long, Elmina?!
"Being strung up from a lamppost will teach you to learn to swallow some humble pie, my dear." Lamppost... So it's not just a story. I wonder how he survived that. But despite the grim subject and his less-than-ideal condition, he managed another smile that, somehow, didn't seem awkward - only a little bloody. "But I'm sure whoever I have to thank for that isn't half as captivating as you, Miss Christine. So I'm afraid you'll find yourself suffering the brunt of my affections."
"'Miss Christine', was it? I doubt Jane Austen's characters had to deal with cryostasis or injured former politicians and convicts." She shook her head in mock-exasperation at his flattery and smiled back at him. A small voice in the back of her head warned her of getting too close, of trusting somebody because she wanted to trust him. Nothing wrong with flirting a little.
She moved him over to the chamber and slowly set him down as the old man came over to help, making the entire affair smoother... until he started talking. The scene he described made Christine's hand, still resting on Ristachev's shoulder, twitch in anger. She had heard rumors about people who kidnapped people for a fee. It was one thing to kill a person, to act out of passion or conviction, but to deliver somebody to their supposed murderer was disgusting.
Still, she managed to hide her displeasure and Ristachev's response gave her the time to regain her composure.
"I'm managing, but if you have anything strong and bitter then I'd be most grateful."
His attempt at an angelic appearance didn't help with her impression of him but what he said wasn't wrong and it would be a while longer until Elmina and the computer guy came back. So she left the Russian's side to be more visible.
"Okay, let's talk about navigation. Look around." She raised her hands and pointed at the woods around them. And really, it was the first time that day that she herself took a moment to look at her surroundings.
The smell of moist soil, herbs and fresh resin; the gentle cool you only felt in the shadow of a tree, never in the concrete jungle; the familiar sight of berry bushes and plants - poisonous and edible - and the soothing flicker of light through the thick crown of the trees... It woke memories more vivid than even the flashes she had seen before her inner eye when she remembered her last months before cryostasis, images of her childhood, fragments of her youth and adult life. They feelings they evoked were mixed, to say the least: She was caught somewhere between nostalgia and terror.
"See the greenish grey stuff on the trees? That is moss, ladies and gentlemen, and the key to finding your way around here. It only grows on the side that's averted from the sun but that could be both north and south, if you don't know which side of the globe you're on. So, where are we? Anybody wanna take a guess?"
Christine didn't really expect anybody to answer but she gave them a second anyway. She wasn't entirely sure if it occurred to them but to her, it became clear once more: They were waiting for her to continue. Even those that feigned disinterest had their ears pricked. Nobody talked; not even a whisper disturbed the silence, with the Apox too far away for its sounds to reach them and all wildlife that called this forest their home scared away by the crash. They were all city-based criminals, all except for the Beast and Christine.
"Well, as you may have noticed, we are in a mixed forest, which are more common in the Northern hemisphere. But I actually recognize some of the plants and trees around here, so unless these species can be found in Europe too, I'm 99% sure that we're in the North America, which basically means United States - up north, the woods look different. So, in short: The moss tells you where north is. The opposite direction is south, to the right you have east, and to the left, west - you've all heard those before. Knowing what directions everybody's talking about is half the trick."
Christine gave each of them a glance, to make sure that they understood. Something was off, bothering her, but she couldn't put her finger on it; her instructions were simple, almost mechanic, recounted as she had been taught, but her conscious mind was still preoccupied with memories of her last few trips into the wild.
She continued:
"The other half is points of reference. For example, the giant column of smoke from the Apox", she nodded south, towards the blackened sky. "Once we get a move on, you wanna look out for mountains, hills, special trees and rocks that stand out and tell you where you are - it helps with getting a sense of distance and relative position. There's a lot more to surviving out here but not getting lost is..."
Then it hit her. Somebody was missing. The Maori? She thought she had seen him, at the fringes of this little clearing, but there was somebody else...
"Where's Laura?"
The blonde with the other gun was gone. And then, she heard a gunshot in the distance. Suddenly, she felt very, very vulnerable. What's taking so long, Elmina?!