When Given a Lemon

Part 7

“So, no getting out of it this time,” I mused. “Well, I at least want to make sure we have a lot more of that medicine for our hunting trip. I do NOT want to get stung without having anyway to treat it!”

“Sure, sure,” they waved me off, turning themself in the same motion so they faced away from me, with their head on their jacket. “I'll help scavenge for them in the morning so stop talking to me, I want to sleep now.”

“Hm.” I agreed, curling even further into the covers in the hopes that sleep would come find me quickly.

Too soon I was out of the warmth and relative safety of my bedroll and clambering through all the bramble to acquire the much needed herbs for tomorrow's hunt. I still hate that I have to be a part of it, but must admit that so far it is much better than it could be! We could have been up against a more formidable force rather than just creatures like the buzzballs. Instead it could have been like some of the monsters talked about in the stories from the front line, or even humans. If I had to fight another human, I doubt I would be able to actually harm them. Although, I've never been in a situation where another human was trying to take my life– ignoring the midnight dunking –so maybe in the face of mortal danger I would react differently… I won't know until the day comes where I am actually faced with this scenario and I sincerely hope that day never arrives.

This time around, Lemon actually helps me gather a bunch of the plant material and it takes the two of us to pull the overloaded sled back to the medic tent inside the camp. The staff was thrilled to have more of the needed herbs and I was hoping that could be the end of my workload for the day when I was stopped by one of the lieutenants.

“The meetings about to start, Cap wants you there for it.” They usher me the other way, making sure to block my original path with their body in case I had alternate plans. I did, I had hoped to do nothing but blend in with the background but I never get what I want these days.

“Okay,” I sigh, then turn to follow their lead. There is no point in avoiding this meeting nor am I particularly bothered with the notion of sitting in for one –it's the expectations after the fact that I want to avoid. In fact, I'm a bit curious how such meetings between the officers are conducted. The only thing troubling me is that I am expected to join the troop or troops that are leaving tomorrow morning in pursuit of these odd flying beasts.

Ducking into the tent opening, we join a small group of officers that are already there; now there are the two lieutenants, two medics, and a few others involved with logistics. We're only waiting on the captain to arrive. It's here that I learn that our captain isn't actually a true captain but a working title called a ‘field-captain’ which gives him temporary ranking power while on a mission when his actual rank is on a lower level but still higher than the other officers assisting him.

I didn't ask anything but I was really curious what his actual title was if not captain. Maybe if I let Lemon in on this little secret they might be able to do some digging to find out. They seemed pretty resourceful, and were less likely to go around blabbing or telling everyone that they heard it from me.

The meeting wasn't long. They discussed what they thought they understood about the creatures based on their appearance and what we had seen of their actions, compared with other animals that seemed similar. Based on this they also mapped out a plan of how they expected them to act and therefore how we would follow them.

When the meeting was over I told Lemon about the captain's hidden identity and they didn't even look surprised in the slightest.

“Yeah, they were a lieutenant-commander,” they replied as if it was common knowledge. “Field-titles are often given as a way to test someone to discern if they are ready for a promotion when the higher ups aren't sold on it, as well as the title used for temporary stand-ins when the higher ranking officer dies and you have to step in to fill the position until either theirs or your old position are filled.”

Well that took all of the excitement out. I frowned, disappointed because I have yet to find something to talk about that Lemon is not already completely savvy with. Sometimes it was really annoying.

I'm glad that after the officers had finished telling me this ‘secret fact' about the captain, he had stepped in before I had a chance to respond and make a fool of myself by assuming it was some big secret. Upon his arrival, the meeting had immediately commenced. The captain seemed pleased to have a lead. I, however, have never led anything in my life nor do I fully understand what the job entails. As the discussion wore on I spent more and more time dreading the trek through the mountains tomorrow.

The next morning I found myself shivering out in the frosty cold accompanied by fresh snow and a dripping red nose. It is extra frigid today, not to mention this so-called chase we are on has led us up in higher elevation. Not only did we have to traverse the dangers of the pass in the early twilight, now I am surrounded by a steeply sloped winter desert that doesn't show any sign of anything passing this way since last night's snow.

I'd complain out loud but my throat would probably freeze up so for the sake of my voice, I kept my face buried behind an extra pair of socks I had tied and wrapped around my mouth as an impromptu scarf. Between that, my over jacket, and my hooded uniform, you could only see my eyes. If I could have those covered and still see, I would.

Almost everyone else is as bundled up as me, with anything they could find to cover their faces and hands. Some wore extra layers of clothing while others stuffed things like paper or leaves into their jackets for added insulation. The wealthier among us stuck out with their heavy, well tailored winter coats, fitted gloves, and thick scarves and hats. I pretended they didn't exist in order to focus on what I was out here for otherwise I would waste too much energy fantasizing about accidentally releaving one of the more pretentious ones of their clothing. If only that wouldn't make me a target in turn. Not that I would ever actually genially consider harming anyone for their things. A sharp blast of frozen air cut by, threatening to pierce skin and I reconsidered for a moment whether stealing a warmed coat really was so bad after all.

I had to shake the thoughts out of my head, also giving my body a chance to warm up by moving around.

In the midst of a few of us stuffed balls of clothing attempting squats in the frozen wild, a gruesome face popped up from inside of the bushes and I fell back into a the snow in surprise. The others all stopped moving for a second, stunned by the sudden appearance of a very strange looking little creature. It was one of those buzzballs. It skittered up and down a stout branch as if trying to decide what to do them jumped off and disappeared into the weighed down bramble.

It took a moment for their impending escape to register – I blame the snow – before we gave chase.