To The Stars

“We have a half an hour at least, maybe an hour,” Brackley said, drinking deep from the water bottle, then passing it along. “All the guards at the detention cells are dead — the roof will blow off that place when they’re discovered.”

“But they got other things to think about,” one of the men broke in; there were murmurs of agreement at that.

“We set fire to some of the warehouses,” Brackley said. “That will keep the bastards distracted for a bit.”

“Would someone be so kind as to unstrap me?” the man in the stretcher said.

A light flashed on and Jan undid the straps that held Uri secure. He looked young, perhaps still in his twenties, with black hair and deepset dark eyes.

“Can anyone tell me what happens next?” he asked.

“You’re going with me,” Jan said. “Do you know how to ski?”

“Not on snow, but I water ski.”

“That’s very good. We won’t be doing downhill skiing, but cross country. I have the clothes here that you will need.”

“Sounds like fun,” Uri said, sitting up, shivering. He was dressed only in a thin gray prison uniform. “I’ll sit on the bench if someone will give me a hand”

“Why?” Jan asked, struck by a sudden cold sensation of fear.

“Bunch of bastards back there,” Uri said, dropping to the bench. “Thought I wasn’t talking fast enough, even when they got an Italian translator in. They used some encouragement to speed me up.”

He lifted his foot from the tangled blankets. It was dark with dried blood. Jan leaned close with the light and saw that all of the man’s toenails had been ripped out. How was he to walk — much less ski — with feet like this?

“I don’t know if it helps,” Brackley said. “But the people who did this, they’re all dead.”

“It doesn’t help the feet but it cheers me a great deal. Thank you.”

“And we’ll take care of the feet too. There was always a chance something like this might happen.” Brackley struggled a flat metal container out from under his clothing and opened it. He took out a disposable syringe and broke off the safety tip. “People who gave me this said one shot would kill pain for up to six hours. No side effects but very habit forming.” He slapped it against Uri’s thigh, the sharp needle penetrating the thin fabric, the drug slowly injected by the pressurized gas capsule. “There are nine more of them here.” He passed them over.

“My thanks to whoever thought of this,” Uri said. “The toes are getting numb already.”

Jan helped him to dress in the swaying snowtrack. The lunging ride improved when they came to a road and speeded up. They only followed it for a few minutes, then turned off into the deep snow again.

“Security checkpoint ahead,” Brackley said. “We have to go around it.”

“I had no idea of your shoe size,” Jan said. “So I bought three pairs of shoes, different sizes.”

“Let me try them. I’ll wad some bandages around the toes to soak up blood. I think these are the ones that will do.”

“Do they fit well in the heel?”

“Fine.” Dressed and warming up, Uri looked around at the circle of watching men, barely seen in the light of the torch. “I don’t know how to thank you people…”

“You don’t. Our pleasure,” Brackley said as the vehicle slowed and stopped. Two of the men left in silence and the snowtrack started tip again. “You two will be the last. I’ll be driving and I’ll take care of disposing of this thing. Bill, I’ll drop you at the spot I showed you on the map. After that you’re on your own.

“I’ll take care of it,” Jan said.

Jan rearranged the packs, putting over three-quarters of the weight into the one he would carry, then adjusting the lighter one on Uri’s shoulders.

“I can carry more than that,” Uri said.

“On foot maybe, but if you can just carry yourself on skis I’ll be happy. The weight’s no problem for me.”

The snowtrack was empty when they stopped for the last time. Brackley came around from the cab and opened the rear and they slid down to the icy surface of the road.

“That’s the trail,” Brackley said, pointing. “Get off the road fast and don’t stop until you’re under the trees. Good luck.”

He was gone before Jan could phrase an answer. The snowtrack roared away, sending back a shower of broken bits of ice, and they were alone. Struggling through the thick snow to the trees. Uri held the small torch while Jan knelt and strapped his shoes into the skis, then put on his own.

“Slip the thong of the ski pole over your wrist like this, see. So the pole hangs from your wrist. Now move your hand straight down and grab. This way you can’t lose a pole. Now here is the motion you will have to use, a sliding one. As you slide your right foot forward you push against the pole in your left hand. Then shift weight and push the opposite ski with the opposite pole. That’s it, keep going.”

“It’s… not easy.”

“It will be as soon as you get the rhythm right. Watch me. Push… push… Now you go ahead, follow those tracks, I’ll be right behind you.”