The explorers stopped in the evening light in a pleasant clearing beneath the trees, set just back from the river. They dropped their packs to the ground with relief, groaning as they stretched their aching limbs.
"Now here's the real test," Nigs said, grimly. "Night is when all the wild beasts come to eat us."
"I wish we had a fire," Jonathan said, regretfully. "The light is supposed to keep animals away, isn't it?"
"I can make a fire," Miriam promised.
Nigs looked at her in surprise. "You can? We don't have anything to make one with."
"There are trees," Miriam pointed. "Go and gather firewood."
Grumbling, Nigs went off to do just that. Miriam knelt on the grass, gently pushing any fallen leaves aside and using pebbles plucked from the riverbank to build a little fireplace. When Nigs returned with an armful of twigs, she began to expertly stack them, building up a construction.
"Can you really set a fire without matches?" Jonathan asked, interested.
Miriam smiled faintly. "I lived in a refugee camp. Of course I can."
It took a few minutes but soon there was a fire blazing between them, the flames leaping up towards the sky. They watched, mesmerised. There was no fire underground, nothing so warm. They breathed in the smoke as sparks popped and danced above them.
"This is good," Carmen announced, half-lying and leaning on her pack. "This is a life I could live quite happily."
"Sleeping outdoors, sitting round a fire, surrounded by friends," Jonathan said, dreamily. "It's like the old days."
"It'll be a shame to go back underground," Miriam sighed. "I wish we didn't have to. We could just build ourselves little houses out here, down near the river. Trap animals. Gather fruit. And at night we'd sit out round a fire, under the stars."
Carmen snorted. "I suppose you know how to set snares as well, wilderness survivor? And build a house?"
"I can hunt animals," Ebb spoke up, unexpectedly. "I know how to make snares, and lay traps. It's not as hard as you think."
Carmen studied him for a moment. "Alright. You'd be on hunting duty. You could teach us what to do."
"I can't trap, but I can cook," Miriam offered. "It's something I've always been good at."
Jonathan nodded approvingly. "You'd tend the fire and cook the meals. The rest of us would build houses."
"We could have one each," Miriam continued, longingly. "Little houses, with roofs and doors and we could cover them in flowers."
"Speak for yourself," Nigs muttered. "I get hay fever."
"Flowers aren't compulsory," Carmen promised. "You can do what you like with your hut. It's yours."
"Just the six of us, living out here," Jonathan breathed. "All this space, all this land. No rules to follow, nobody to push us around, no danger. It would be wonderful."
For a moment, they sat in silence, transfixed by this picture of a blameless future in their own personal Eden.
"Of course, it'd never work out," Nigs broke the hush. "I mean, we've never got on. We'd end up setting fire to each other's huts and tricking people into walking into the boar nets."
Jonathan looked hurt. "You had to spoil our dreams, didn't you?"
"There's no point anyway," Nigs sighed deeply. "We have to go back. We have responsibilities. So at least we can be practical and not pretend we have the option."
"Even so," Carmen said, wistfully. "It would be nice."
"How do you think Natalia's getting on?" Miriam wondered. "Do you think the sub-dwellings are fighting back?"
Jonathan shuddered. "I'd rather not dwell on it."
"Good idea," Carmen sat up straight. "I think we should have dinner."
"Dinner?" Sandy made a face. "Don't you mean, energy bars?"
"We have bread," Carmen objected.
"Synthesised bread."
"It's the best you're going to get," she grumbled, unzipping her pack. "What more do you want? Just because we're outside again doesn't mean roast dinners are growing on the trees."
Hunger made the most of their meagre meal and they ate slowly, savouring every bite after a hard day's walking. Night rose up and swallowed them, reducing their vision to the pool of firelight that surrounded them, flickering up the nearby tree trunks before disappearing into the blackness.
"I'd forgotten how creepy it was," Miriam remarked. "How deep darkness felt outside."
Nobody was inclined to say how much they agreed. They talked idly, telling stories about their past lives, making jokes, laughing occasionally. Insects buzzed through the air, flitting through the light and dancing around it as though they'd never seen such a thing before.
Sandy sharpened the end of a stick with Carmen's knife and used it to toast pieces of bread in the campfire. The rest followed his example, lounging on the grass, warmer than they had been in months from the heat of the flames, making toast and talking. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl.
"If we stay out here," Carmen said, yawning, "I mean, if we go and come back and everybody follows us, then I want to go and live by the sea. Build a boat. Live on the shore, like I remember doing in my dream."
"Do you know how to build a boat?" Jonathan wondered.
"I know enough," Carmen considered. "With a little trial and error, I could make a brilliant boat. And some of those scholars back in Subterra, they could help."
"And then you'd be the terror of the seas again," Miriam smiled. "Captain Carmen, ruler of the waves."
Carmen returned the smile. "Precisely. And you, Saint Miriam? What would you do?"
"Oh, build myself a house somewhere high up, somewhere with a view," Miriam lay flat on her stomach, head resting on her arms. "Set up a school."
"A school?" Nigs looked horrified. "What on earth for?"
"So people can learn, of course," Miriam frowned at him. "Real lessons, not just how to shoot and stab. Mathematics and literature and art and history and philosophy, so they can find out what they're good at. And what they really want to be."
"Cute," Carmen rolled her eyes, but not unkindly. "I can see it."
"Well, I know what I'd do," Nigs rolled onto his back. "I'd do as little as possible. Find myself a useful job and somewhere to live, be as little trouble to anybody as I can be, fall in love with someone and marry them..."
"You don't want anything more than that?" Carmen asked, in surprise. "No great plans, no perfect life?"
"That would be a perfect life," Nigs argued. "It would be uneventful."
"I suppose there's not a lot of point to this either," Jonathan sighed. "Whatever happens, I don't think anyone will let me live out my grand plans. I'm not even sure I have any. And besides, there are going to be so many complications once we go back."
"You never know," Sandy replied, pulling a stick out of the fire and handing the perfectly toasted bread almost reflexively to Ebb. "It's a whole new world. We can do anything."
So fast that it took Carmen several seconds to understand what she was seeing, Ebb turned Sandy's head around and kissed him. For a moment, Sandy was frozen and Ebb pulled back, his hands still holding Sandy's face, staring at him.
"Well, thank god something broke the tension," Carmen raised an eyebrow. "It's been killing me for days."
"You knew?" Nigs burst out. "You knew about this?"
"You mean you didn't?" Miriam almost laughed.
"You as well?" Jonathan's eyes popped out. "What is this, some kind of conspiracy?"
"Boys," Carmen rolled her eyes at Miriam. "So unobservant."
Throughout this exchange, the other two had been still but now Sandy jerked his head back, away from Ebb. Before Ebb could protest, Sandy had stood up and walked away into the darkness. Carmen chanced a glance at Miriam, who was biting on her lip and whose eyes were troubled. Then Ebb too got to his feet and followed Sandy away into the night.
"What is it about him," Jonathan complained, "that just when everything is going well, he always has to do something to spoil the mood?"
"When will Sandor be back?" Emilia asked, as she walked with the young Field-Marshal down the corridors of the high command.
"Who can say?" Natalia sighed deeply. "Perhaps never."
"It really is so dangerous, then?" Emilia frowned. "There is no way of knowing?"
"None," Natalia confirmed. "They took provisions for three days. If they're not back within a week, we declare them dead."
Emilia looked away. "I would hate to have that happen."
"So would I," Natalia said, seriously. "I rather suspect it tips the balance in your favour, doesn't it?"
Emilia chanced a smile. "Just a little."
They walked in silence for a moment.
"Soldier, you have to understand that I appreciate your position," Emilia said, suddenly, "but that others will not and I have to speak for them as well."
Natalia inclined her head. "It is understood."
"They're asking for proof of your story. They want to be shown the upstairs, to have access to the Nevera papers, to have all the information you have gained."
Natalia nodded slowly. "That's not unreasonable. I would have a similar request."
Emilia hesitated. "There are those...those who would venture the opinion that you have been badly led."
Natalia was silent for a long time.
"This isn't the fault of the youth corps but of their corrupt leadership," Emilia continued, in the tones of one testing out words to see how they sound. "It is, in fact, a testimony to the loyalty and dedication of our young soldiers that they have behaved such. It is only the ringleaders who are to blame."
Natalia cleared her throat. "Soldier, you can speak plainly with me. It would save us both time."
"If you say that Sandor pressured you into it," Emilia rushed out, "and the other sleepers, that the project was a failure and drove them mad, that you were following bad orders because you were not given the freedom to disobey...however you want to phrase it. They will let the youth corps off, punish no one, allow things to return to the way they were."
"And John?" Natalia's voice gave nothing away.
"Sandor and the other five will receive the punishment," Emilia watched her face closely. "Everyone else will be safe. No doubt I can get you promotion into the bargain as well. You will have Sandor's position, as a reward for preventing the situation getting any worse. It would solve all our problems."
Natalia took some time to consider the phrasing of her response.
"It's a kind offer," she said, "or rather, it's a cruel offer masquerading as a kind one. You see, we don't actually want things to go back to the way they were. That is rather the point of a rebellion, isn't it? To change things? And you speak of our commendable loyalty, well let me tell you this: I would never betray my friends in such a way, not for my own benefit or anyone else's. It would be a coward's action, and one for which I would deserve nothing but contempt."
Emilia bowed her head respectfully. "I quite agree, Soldier. But I was asked to place the offer there, in case you wanted it."
"Would you have taken it?" Natalia inquired, trying to keep her tone light.
"Never," Emilia said, fiercely. "Never in a million years. I would have thought the less of you for even considering it."
"Precisely," Natalia smiled. "Precisely. We wait for John's return. You can choose what to do then. But just remember that you're not in charge of us, not for the time being. This isn't a question of whether you punish us, it is a question of whether you fight us. Tell your people that."
Ebb moved slowly through the trees, blind in the darkness, dragging himself on crutches. He almost walked right into Sandy, who had stopped, one palm against a tree trunk, breathing hard.
"Sandy..."
Ebb reached out to touch his shoulder. Sandy flinched away from him.
"Sandy, I..."
"Don't," Sandy cut him off, starting to walk away again. "Just don't."
This time Ebb didn't follow him. He stood in the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust, trying not to feel those words stinging. He felt wrong-footed, as if he'd been slipped sideways into a parallel universe.
"He'd be a fool to take you back," said a soft voice from behind him.
Ebb spun round and Miriam peeled herself out of the shadows, stepping forward to where he could see her.
"You're spying on me?" he spat.
"I wouldn't think about hurting me, if I were you," Miriam said, quite calmly. "You care too much about what I have to say."
"None of this," Ebb answered, his voice shaking, "is any of your business."
"No, but someone has to explain to you," Miriam leant back against a tree. "Carmen tried. Sandy tried. You didn't listen to either of them. Listen to me now."
"Why did he walk away?" Ebb asked, surprisingly himself. "I don't...why did he walk away?"
"Well, for starters, you embarrassed him," Miriam said, frankly. "There's a time and a place for kissing and that wasn't it."
"So?" Ebb demanded. "He's in love with me, isn't he?"
"Oh, so you do understand that much? Or is it just the vanity talking? Listen, Ebb, loving you isn't enough."
Ebb stared at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Loving you isn't enough," Miriam repeated. "Not for him. It never will be and it never should be. Relationships go two ways. You have to love him back."
"We weren't in a relationship."
"Really?" Miriam raised an eyebrow. "Then what would you call it? What did you think you were doing? What did you think he wanted? Seriously now."
Ebb shook his head. "I'm not good at serious. I've never been good at serious."
"No," Miriam agreed. "You're good at lazy, selfish going-with-the-flow, at self-indulgence, at blind ignorance."
"If you're just here to insult me," Ebb said, through gritted teeth, "you can leave now."
"I'm here to help you," Miriam promised.
"Why?"
Miriam laughed then, a surprised little laugh. "Because I'm the nice one. It's what I do."
"What does any of this matter to you?"
"I like Sandy," Miriam considered. "And you frustrate me. You haven't listened to what anyone has tried to tell you, have you?"
"About what?" Ebb snapped. "What have people been trying to tell me?"
"The world doesn't revolve around you," Miriam spread her hands. "Other people matter. You can't just act however you want, you can't just hurt people, you can't sink into a sulk when it doesn't all go your way. That's not how it works."
"Don't patronise me. I know all of that."
"Then why don't you follow it?" Miriam demanded. "Why do you insist on treating other people like dirt? Come on, Ebb. Give me one good reason."
Ebb opened and closed his mouth without saying a word. Inside he broiled with rage but deeper inside, behind all of that, he curled up in fear.
"Forget the other stuff for now," Miriam gestured. "Forget about Carmen and Jonathan and everyone else you hurt and insult and throw your little tantrums at. This is about Sandy now, isn't it? You like him, don't you?"
Ebb pressed his lips together and said nothing.
"You like him and you hurt him," Miriam shook her head. "Because you never think, even for a second. Well, what do you want from him? Go on. Tell me. What do you want?"
Ebb hesitated. What did he want? He hadn't even thought about it before. He didn't know if there were words for it.
"I want him," Ebb managed. "I want him back."
"You want him to be your boyfriend?" Miriam challenged.
Ebb shrugged. "If that's what it was. Yes. I want it to be like it was before. Before I hurt him."
"No."
"What?"
"No. You're wrong. It can't, won't, shouldn't be like that. He was always there for you. You were never there for him. And then you broke his heart. For just one moment, will you stop thinking about yourself?" Miriam cried. "Stop thinking about what's best for you, and think about him for a minute. Do you even know how that's done?"
Ebb glared at her. "Don't talk to me like I'm a child!"
"You act like a child!" Miriam retorted. "You understand as much about people as a toddler does."
Ebb felt the words like a slap in the face and he stared, open-mouthed, at the mild-mannered girl, who took a deep breath and composed herself before carrying on.
"You want him to love you," she said, softly. "You want him to be there for you, to hold you, to listen to you, to look after you. I can see that much. What you don't understand is that you have to be prepared to do the same for him, to look after him."
"He doesn't need looking after."
"You have no idea," Miriam laughed. "You have no idea. You're a hopeless case."
"No!" Ebb interrupted. "I'm not. Don't you dare walk away. Not now. I...Sandy matters, ok? He matters."
For a brief moment, Miriam's smile looked genuine.
"Think on that," she said. "And if it really matters to you, go and talk to Sandy."
Ebb swallowed. "Will he...will he love me again?"
"You're like a child," Miriam said, sadly. "You're clueless. He still loves you, you stupid boy. He just knows now that that's not going to fix anything."
"But will he...um..."
"He won't take you back," Miriam told him. "Not unless he's a fool, which I suppose he may be. People have been before, after all. But I wouldn't keep your hopes up."
"Then what's the point?" Ebb burst out. "What's the point of going to talk to him?"
Miriam shook her head. "If you don't know that, there really is no reason to try."
She walked away and left him there, standing between the trees, leaning on his crutches, alone in the dark. Ebb stared after her, feeling as though his soul had been pulled out and examined and declared unworthy, every part of him stamped defective and a failure.
It was the strangest feeling he'd ever known. Oh, he'd been aware, many times over, that he wasn't a good person, that he hadn't lived a good life, that other people didn't like him. But it was so very different to have it shoved in your face, forced at you in a way that meant you couldn't turn aside. Ebb had wallowed in self-pity enough times before, but this didn't lend him the option.
Instead, he thought about Sandy. He thought about waking up after all that pain on the very first morning and seeing Sandy looking at him, criticising him, judging him, but cleaning his face with gentle hands and sitting beside him, distracting him from his discomfort.
He thought of Sandy slouched in a chair by his bed all those evenings, talking and arguing, disagreeing so frustratingly, and listening too, listening so well and comprehensively and Ebb had not been afraid to fall asleep after Sandy had been there.
He thought of Sandy smiling at him so instinctively, laughing as he taught the medics how to form a fist, joking with them, teasing Ebb too. He thought of him half-carrying Ebb back to the infirmary, taking all his weight, berating him all the while for the idiocy that had pushed him to that point.
And that first terrifying touch of his lips. The way it felt to hold his hand. How open and fragile his face always was. His pulse beneath Ebb's fingertips. His heartbeat against Ebb's back. The easy escapism of his arms. The security of knowing he was there, nearby, within reach for when the pain and the nightmares came calling. The same embarrassed smile, every morning, as though he expected to be shoved aside.
His face splattered with Ebb's blood, dark circles under his eyes, when he woke Ebb up to a million apologies. And that one moment, of course. The crucial one. The way he had looked in that split second, the hot, curling terror inside of Ebb, the instinct that made him move, almost against his will, to stand between Sandy and an attacker.
Ebb stood there for a long time, thinking about Sandy, hearing Miriam's voice echoing around his ears. He saw Sandy lying on the ground, clutching his broken nose, looking up with such hurt and betrayal and fury in his eyes that Ebb had been shaken. The things he had said.
It was Carmen's voice Ebb heard, half-remembered, echoing back from so many weeks ago, cold and unsympathetic, judging him, daring to presume she understood him. And in doing so, understanding not all but just a little more than Ebb might have liked.
"You need to get over yourself. Nobody's going to come and rescue you. Nobody's going to fix you. Sandy might try, but he won't succeed."
Ebb swore at the night, at the unfairness of it, at his own stupidity and everyone else's, at the turns of fate that had brought him to this. But he understood, or thought he might, the point, after all. He turned and limped away through the trees in search of Sandy.