No one slept that first night after it happened; the Incident had left everyone too on-edge for that. Yet none of them spoke, either; a Silence lay upon the company so thickly that it could be felt, even by the oblivious Lalli and the super-optimistic Reynir.
Usually, they would spend the night in speculation of what might be found on the next day’s run, or discussing what they’d already found, or (increasingly as they probed deeper into the Old City) the obstacles in their path. This night, however, all of them kept silent through the long, long hours of darkness.
Perhaps part of it was that, for the first time in a long time, the garrulous Reynir was absent from the vehicle. At Sigrun’s insistence, a quarantine had been established on him, rather than Tuuri, so that she could continue her duties more or less unhindered, and so the redhead and Mikkel, and that silly kitten, had set up a small tent abutting the vehicle on its doorless side. Again, their absence might have been part of why the vehicle was silent all through that night.
That, however, wouldn’t explain why the tent was quiet, as well, Reynir and Mikkel each pretending to sleep so the other wouldn’t worry.
*
No one slept the night before Judgement Day; but, again, none of the company conversed with each other.
Tuuri had shut herself into the vehicle’s cabin before dinner, and wound up spending all night in there, by herself; the others minded her obvious desire for privacy, and stayed away until morning.
Lalli was out scouting, as it was all he could do; he ran and ran and ran through the night as though compelled, unable to slow himself though his legs nearly gave beneath him, unable to stop or even to pace himself; unable to escape the knowledge of what tomorrow might bring.
Emil was trying not to think about Tuuri, and failing. Even thoughts of fire-burn-BURN couldn’t hold his mind away from the harsh reality that tomorrow might well see her end. He wondered if Mikkel would do it, or Sigrun, or even Lalli, as her kinsman. Then, the thought that he’d fought against all night popped back to the surface: would he have to? Could he, even, if he had to? He’d set the dog free, but that had been so different as to be incomparable. It had been just another beast-dog; Tuuri was his friend and comrade.
Sigrun and Mikkel spent all night outside, staring at the fire neither had put out after dinner. Neither spoke, nor exchanged looks; they merely sat, side by side, each with an arm around the other. Each ignored the tears streaming down their faces, or the occasional sob that worked its way out. They simply sat there, through the whole night.
Reynir was in the dream-world; but he was not asleep. Instead, he was frantically searching for the Two Who Ruled, the source of his embryonic and fledgling powers, Odin and Freya. He had to find them. He had to let them know how important, how intelligent, how kind Tuuri was, and what a blow her loss would be, not just to the team, but to the world. He had to let them know... that they should take him instead. But he couldn’t find them, no matter how he searched and searched as the night wore on.
*
Mikkel waited until almost mid-day to make his final examination, but not because he needed to give the Rash any more time to reveal itself. For the first time in a long, long time, Mikkel Madsen was having trouble gathering his professional detachment.
The examination was hideously thorough, Mikkel going over every inch of Tuuri so horribly slowly that it began to seem that the two of them had been like this forever, doctor and patient, and that they would remain like this forever. The itch on the back of her neck tortured her even as he moved to that part--and paused.
Tuuri didn’t breathe for what seemed an eternity, spots beginning to flicker in her sight before Mikkel said something in his soft, deep voice that she couldn’t understand. He repeated himself, and for a moment, she thought she was simply hearing what she wanted him to say instead of what he actually said, but eventually it sank in.
“You can get dressed again, Tuuri. You’re clear.”
*
The other four were standing outside the exam area, motionless with the tension, as Mikkel emerged. His thumbs-up--for some reason, it seemed he couldn’t make himself speak--broke the spell.
Reynir fainted, the kitten in his pocket mewing quietly in confusion.
Sigrun sniffed, as if to say “I told you so”, and turned away, trying to busy herself by field-stripping and cleaning her weapon for the twenty-seventh time that day.
Emil jumped to his feet and grabbed first Lalli, and then Mikkel, and then Sigrun in surprisingly strong hugs.
Lalli suffered Emil’s hug and then slipped into the vehicle to finally get some sleep.
When Tuuri finally emerged, Emil grabbed her in yet another hug, unashamedly weeping this time, and then Sigrun joined in, and Mikkel, and a Reynir only partly recovered from his faint, and then even Lalli emerged and joined the sodden mass, as Emil’s tears had sparked Tuuri’s and Reynir’s, and even the dour medic and their crazy captain had allowed themselves a few sniffles.
*
The first thing Sigrun told Tuuri after they’d all extricated themselves and pretended to go about their business was, “Put your mask on, Tuuri.”
