Dreamsnake

Now was not the time for angry retorts. Snake glanced at Jesse again and realized that her own ignorance and the partnership’s contempt for the danger of the old world’s relics had unwittingly granted Jesse some mercy. Snake had treatments for radiation poisoning, but there was no treatment for anything this severe. Whatever she could have tried would only have prolonged Jesse’s death.

“What’s the matter?” For the first time Merideth’s voice showed fear.

“She has radiation poisoning.”

“Poisoning? How? She’s eaten and drunk nothing we haven’t tasted.”

“It’s from the crater. The ground is poisoned. The legends are true.”

Beneath deep tan, Merideth was pale. “Then do something, help her!”

“There’s nothing I can do.”

“You couldn’t help her injury, you can’t help her sickness—”

They stared at each other, both of them hurt and angry. Merideth’s gaze dropped first. “I’m sorry. I had no right…”

“I wish to the gods I were omnipotent, Merideth, but I’m not.”

Their conversation woke Alex, who rose and came toward them, stretching and scratching. “It’s time to—” He glanced back and forth from Snake to Merideth, then looked beyond to Jesse. “Oh, gods…”

The new mark on her forehead, where Snake had touched her, was slowly oozing blood.

Alex flung himself down beside her, reaching for her, but Snake held him back. He tried to push her away.

“Alex, I barely touched her. You can’t help her like that.”

He looked at her blankly. “Then how?” Snake shook her head.

Tears welling up, Alex pulled away from her. “It isn’t fair!” He ran out of the tent. Merideth started after him, hesitated at the entrance, and turned back. “He can’t understand, he’s so young.”

“He understands,” Snake said. She blotted Jesse’s forehead, trying not to rub or put pressure on her skin. “And he’s right, it isn’t fair. Who ever said anything was fair?” She cut off the words to spare Merideth her own bitterness over Jesse’s lost chances, snatched away by fate and ignorance and the remnants of another generation’s insanity.

“Merry?” Jesse groped in the air with a trembling hand.

“I’m here.” Merideth reached out but stopped, afraid to touch her.

“What’s the matter? Why do I…” She blinked slowly. Her eyes were bloodshot.

“Gently,” Snake whispered. Merideth enfolded Jesse’s fingers with hands soft as bird wings.

“Is it time to go?” The eagerness was tinged with terror, with unwillingness to realize something was wrong.

“No, love.”

“It’s so hot…” She started to raise her head, shifting her weight. She froze with a gasp. Information entered Snake’s mind without any conscious effort, a cold inhuman analysis she was trained for: bleeding into the joints. Internal bleeding. And in her brain?

“It never hurt like this.” She glanced at Snake without moving her head. “It’s something else, something worse.”

“Jesse, I—” Snake was first made aware of her tears by the taste of salt on her lips, mixed with the grit from the desert’s dust. She choked on words. Alex crept back into the tent. Jesse tried to speak again, but could only gasp.

Merideth grabbed Snake’s arm. She could feel the fingernails cutting her skin. “She’s dying.”

Snake nodded.

“Healers know how to help—how to—”

“Merideth, no,” Jesse whispered.

“—how to take away the pain.”

“She can’t…”

“One of my serpents was killed,” Snake said, more loudly than she had intended, belligerent with grief and anger.

Merideth did not make a second outburst, but Snake could feel the unspoken accusation: You couldn’t help her live, and now you can’t help her die. This time it was Snake’s gaze that fell. She deserved the condemnation. Merideth let her go and turned back to Jesse, looming over her like a tall demon waiting to fight beasts or shadows.

Jesse reached out to touch Merideth but drew her hand sharply back. She stared at the soft center of her palm, between the calluses of her work. A bruise was forming. “Why?”

“The last war,” Snake said. “In the craters—” Her voice broke.

“So it’s true,” Jesse said. “My family believes the land outside kills, but I thought they lied.” Her eyes went out of focus; she blinked, looked toward Snake but did not seem to see her, blinked again. “They lied about so many other things. Lies for making children obedient…”

Silent again, her eyes closed, Jesse slowly went limp, one muscle at a time, as if even relaxation was an agony she could not tolerate all at once. She was still conscious but did not respond, with word or smile or glance, as Merideth stroked her bright hair and moved as close as was possible without touching her. Her skin was ashen around the livid bruises.