Chapter Text
Mikkel gazed down at Tuuri’s face. He reached out, brushed an errant lock off her face, turned her face to the left. The rash on her cheek was gone, her skin clear and smooth. The collar of her beautiful track suit was open, pulled away to show her shoulders. By chance? Arranged so as her last act? No way to know. But her shoulders were clear and smooth; the cure had worked to cleanse the rash from her skin.
He pulled the covers up and tucked them in, as if that would keep her safe, and turned away, feeling very old. As he made his way forward, twigs, dead leaves, and bits of bark crunched under his feet. He dropped into the passengers’ seat, not the driver’s seat. That was Tuuri’s seat; he would take it when he had to, but it would never be his.
He stared out at the snowy forest in the late afternoon sunlight. Sigrun had called an early halt, since they couldn’t reach the campsite Lalli had chosen before dark, and this spot was good enough. It had a clear field of fire and a stream to refill the tank’s water supply. He had helped fuel and water the tank before retreating inside while Sigrun and Emil went hunting. With Lalli in natural sleep and Tuuri comatose, he heard only his own breathing in the silent tank.
His thoughts spun in the same tight circle they had since they discovered Tuuri’s condition and understood what she’d done. He doubted Tuuri’s plan would work. Of course he didn’t doubt the existence of magic; how could he when he’d fought ghosts himself? But her plan depended on Reynir, a powerful but untrained and inexperienced mage, and Onni, a mage of unknown abilities in Sweden.
The rescue ship should have quarantine facilities and they should be prepared for injuries. She can survive until the rescue, if it comes when they expect it, and then the crew can probably keep her alive. Keep her body alive. But then her body becomes a research project for as long as it lasts. I’d rather euthanize her myself than allow that. And yet … what if the cure eventually works? What if it just takes time, time the original researchers didn’t have? What if she would wake up in a month or two? How can I take that from her? But if the cure does work, or if her plan does —
The outer door banged. “Hey, big guy,” Sigrun said, standing between the seats and looking down at him. “We got a couple of rabbits, and the kid’s out there building a fire.”
“That’s good.”
“Are you okay?”
“Well enough.”
A brief silence fell between them. “Yeah, okay,” Sigrun said at length, turning away. “So we’ll cook supper. We’ll fix a plate for you.”
“No need.”
“Yes, there is. You’re our driver, and you need to eat. We’ll fix a plate and you’ll eat. That’s an order.” The outer door banged shut before he could answer. He returned to staring at the lengthening shadows on the snow outside and worrying about Tuuri.
When Sigrun brought him a plate of roast rabbit, he bowed to necessity and ate it, though the taste was ashes in his mouth.
Sunset had painted the sky in crimson and gold when something changed. Mikkel lowered his gaze to a red light flickering on the dashboard. It was much too fast to be Morse code, and he frowned at it, wondering why Rosli was trying to attract his attention.
“Mikkel.” He thought it was his memory summoning up the Finnish twist Tuuri gave to his name.
“Mikkel.”
He recoiled, twisting to stare, wide-eyed, at Tuuri, standing smiling beside him. Scrambling to his feet, he banged knees, elbows, and head without noticing.
“Hey, didn’t you believe me? It worked!”
“I — yes, it —”
Lalli appeared behind Tuuri’s shoulder, saying something to her as he regarded Mikkel, narrow-eyed. She answered him, nodding, and turned back to Mikkel. “Lalli says you drove the tank?”
“I did. We couldn’t stay where we were for another night. Driving was rather more difficult than I expected.”
She smiled. “It was more difficult than I expected, too.”
Mikkel pulled her into a hug, grateful for her life even through his worries, but let go when she made theatrical strangling noises. “Reynir’s awake too,” Tuuri said as he stepped back. “I’m going to see Sigrun and Emil. Will you let him out?”
“Yes, I’ll do that.” He followed her and Lalli out of the tank, stopping to watch as Sigrun and Emil leapt to their feet at her appearance. They were so happy, and he would have to ruin it. He wished he hadn’t had all day to consider the possibilities.
Sigrun reached her first, lifting the smaller woman off her feet in a tight hug and spinning around, grinning widely. Lalli backed against the tank, clearly worried someone might want to hug him, too.
“Sigrun, put her down!” Emil said. “Maybe the rest of us want to hug her!”
After setting Tuuri back on her feet and watching Emil pull her into a bear-hug, Sigrun turned to Mikkel. Her grin wavered as she saw Mikkel’s grim expression. “Hey, Mikkel, smile! Look, she’s cured! It worked!”
“We’ll talk.” Mikkel made his way to the back of the tank. “Reynir, put on your mask.”
The Icelander opened the door, mask in place. “Is she okay?”
“Tuuri is with Sigrun and Emil.”
“What’s wrong? You should be happy. Did something bad happen?”
“Come. I need to talk to everyone.” They returned to the fire together, finding the other three still rejoicing. “Sigrun, Tuuri, Emil. I must talk to everyone.” Mikkel had everyone sit down, Lalli by Tuuri’s side and Reynir a couple of meters away despite his objection that he wanted Tuuri to translate for him. With everyone settled, Mikkel took a deep breath and began.
“I can’t say how happy I am that Tuuri is awake, that the cure didn’t … didn’t cause brain death. However. There are problems that none of us thought about until Tuuri tried it.”
“She’s alive,” Sigrun said. “What’s the problem? Do you think the cure didn’t work?” She glanced at Tuuri before looking back at Mikkel. “Do you think she’s not cured after all?”
“Do you know what a carrier is?”
Sigrun wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Someone who isn’t immune, but her children might be.”
“No. Or, yes. That’s a carrier of the immunity trait. But there also are, or can be, carriers of disease. That’s someone who doesn’t have the symptoms of the disease but can still give it to others.”
“And you think —” Emil began.
“I don’t know what to think. I just know that this is possible.”
“Quarantine wouldn’t work, then,” Emil said, frowning, seeing the problem. “She’d get through okay.”
“No,” Tuuri said. “The cure gets rid of the disease. The researchers did PR–PC–some kind of tests on their subjects. It’s in the notes —”
“They had a fresh solution. They weren’t using ninety-year-old crystals. And we don’t have whatever tests the ancient researchers had, so we can’t tell if you still have the disease or not.”
“You could put some non-immune rabbits in with me,” Tuuri said. “And they wouldn’t catch it, so you’d know — What? Why not?”
“That would only tell us you're not actively contagious now.” Mikkel spread his hands. “Look, decades before the Rash, there was a disease called chickenpox. No, I don’t know why that name. It was endemic, which means practically everyone got it. But it wasn’t a dangerous disease, so they mostly just got over it. They weren’t contagious, they had no symptoms, and they could go through a quarantine just fine.”
“So what?” Sigrun asked.
“So they hadn’t gotten over it. The virus never truly left their bodies. Years or even decades later, the virus that had been hiding inside them all that time would come back out as a disease called shingles. And then they would be contagious.”
“But the Rash doesn’t work like that,” Sigrun said.
“It hasn’t worked like that. Everyone who’s ever gotten it has either died or changed. Except for Tuuri. The Rash is unlike any disease humanity faced before the apocalypse. We don't fully understand how it works, and we certainly don’t know what it will do in someone who got it but recovered.” He swallowed hard, looking directly at Tuuri. “And the world can’t risk finding out the hard way. You will be quarantined forever.”
“What!” Sigrun jumped to her feet. “No!”
“No.” Tuuri shook her head, ignoring her outburst. “No, Mikkel, that can’t be right.”
“It isn’t right, but it’s the way it is.” He looked into Sigrun’s outraged face. “It’s not my choice, Sigrun. This is what the authorities will say, what they will have to say.”
“Well, they don’t know.” Sigrun folded her arms. “We never told them. So if we all just keep quiet —”
“We can’t do that, Sigrun. The danger is real. She can’t risk exposing non-immunes. She must be quarantined.”
Tuuri stared at him, betrayed. “Don’t talk about me when I’m right here. You mean I have to be behind walls forever.” She jumped to her feet. “No! I won’t do it! I’ll — I’ll stay here.”
Emil was on his feet as well. “But you can’t stay here alone.”
“I expect Lalli will stay with her,” Mikkel said quietly. “And I will.”
“What?” Tuuri stood, her fists on her hips. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
“Of course you do,” Mikkel said. “I don’t mean that. If you don’t want me to stay with you, I won’t. But you alone or with just Lalli …”
By now, they were all on their feet. As Tuuri turned to speak to Lalli, Sigrun beckoned Mikkel to her side along with Emil.
“Okay, big guy, I want answers. I want the truth, right now. Who ordered you to kill Emil?”
Mikkel hadn’t expected to have to talk about this now. He closed his eyes. “Some knowledge is dangerous, Sigrun.”
“Shut up about that and answer! Who ordered it?”
“General Trond.” He looked at her with regret, knowing he’d just destroyed her relationship with her “Uncle Trond”.
Sigrun put an arm around Emil’s shoulders. “Who else was in on this? My clan? His family?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know about anyone else.”
“What happens to him if he goes back?” As Mikkel hesitated, she went on, “You think Trond will have him killed. Don’t you.” Emil made a protesting noise, and she pulled him close to her side.
Mikkel looked away from the two of them, from the whole team. “Yes.”
“But why?” Emil demanded.
He’d already revealed so much; there was little reason to hold back. “Because you’re a sport. That’s what the General called you. You’re unexpected; you’re in their way. I think they want you gone, so they sent you here as an experiment, to see what happens with an untrained pyrokinetic under stress. And I was supposed to end the experiment before it got out of hand. But now you’re going back, and I think you’re still in their way.”
Sigrun looked down at Emil. “I want to put you on my team, but I’m pretty sure Trond pulls the strings in my clan.” She looked up at Mikkel and back at Emil. “I don’t think I can protect you.”
Emil tugged at his hood. “My cousins aren’t in on this. They’re just kids. But Torbjörn and Siv … they might be. And even if they’re not, I don’t think they’ll mind if — if something happens to me.” He turned to look at Tuuri, now talking to Reynir, who stood two meters away from her. “Tuuri won’t be alone. I’ll stay.”
Sigrun looked from him to Mikkel with a fierce, reckless grin. “I never wanted to be a general anyway. And I'm an Eide. I’m not going to be a pawn of Trond Andersen. No! I’m staying with Tuuri and my right-hand man! And you, big guy.”
Tuuri had come near enough to listen in, Lalli close behind as if guarding her. “Don’t I get a say in this?” she asked again.
Sigrun turned to her with that reckless grin. “Nope, sorry, short stuff. We’re all staying with you!”
“Except Reynir,” Mikkel said. “We need to take him to the outpost so he can go back to Iceland.”
Reynir heard his name. He now looked around, bewildered. “Tuuri, what are they saying?”
“I — Mikkel says I have to stay in the Silent World because he thinks I might be contagious still, but they’ll take you to the outpost to go —”
With a few steps, the Icelander was beside her, his arm around her. “What? No! I won’t go back without you.”
“Stay away from her!” Mikkel started forward, but stopped as Reynir yanked off his mask and pulled Tuuri into a kiss. “Oh, no. Oh, no.” Mikkel buried his face in his hands. Sigrun and Emil stepped away.
“She’s cured,” Reynir said defiantly. “I won’t get infected, and anyway, we have a cure.”
Tuuri embraced him, looking around at the others. After a moment, she gave them a broad smile.
“Okay, then! Let’s all go explore the Silent World!”