Cynical by nature and experience, Junebug could only watch in shocked amazement as Quetzalli came to her feet. She looked a mess, blood soaking her trousers and breasts naked and gory where Junebug had hastily cut away her clothing. Reaching down with a curious expression she peeled away the spray seal that a moment ago had been holding in blood and intestines. The wound, or rather the lack of a wound as the flesh was now smooth, was incongrously clean compared with the rest of her. The adhesive had peeled away most of the clotted blood in an irregular oval shape.

"Inusha Rakeeri!" a hoarse voice shouted. Junebug turned to see the shaman and a dozen or so of the villagers. It was the Shaman that had shouted, finger outstretched towards Quetzalli. Instinctively Junebug, still kneeling and sitting back on her calves, pulled her rifle into her lap. But the action was unecessary in any case, it wasn't the prelude to an attachk.

"Inusha Rakeeri!" other citizens were taking up the chant, and still more were spilling from the huts and buildings where they had taken shelter from the tumult of a few minutes earlier. Quetzalli herself looked shocked as she stood quavering but within a few minutes the entire population was enthusiastically shouting the words.

"What does Inusha mean?" Taya asked quietly. Junebug looked up at her before absent mindedly rubbing her blood tacky hands on her combat pants and pushing herself to her feet.

"I have no idea." She felt burned out, all the tension and energy of the night had purged her of any emotion other than a bone deep weariness. As Junebug watched Quetzalli raised her arms in the air in the same ritual invocation that Wetumpkah had used. As one the crowd shouted out a strange phrase and fell to the ground in obeisance.

_________________________

Things moved quickly after that. It turned out that Inusha meant something close to beloved child. Quetzalli explained in her increasingly proficient Imperial that their was an ancient prophecy claiming that Rakeeri would raise his chosen child from the Land of Shadows as a mark of his favor. Whatever the case it seemed like, given the cataclysmic events and the death of Wetumpkah, humble good natured Quetzalli was now something close to a queen. Her first decree was that the villagers would help the Starmen build a shrine for their chariot, and so, at dawn the next day, a score of strong young men appeared before the metallic bulk of the Highlander. Junebug set them to work and by noon large timbers, shorn of their branches with the diamond tipped cutting saws the Highlander carried for cutting hull plate, began to float down river.

In the evenings elaborate feasts were provided by the village women and Quetzalli kept court there, entertaining the high ranking member of not only her tribe but other tribes as men arrived to witness the purported miracle. When she wasn't attending to the affairs of state, if such a grand term could be applied, she spent time with Neil. There was little that Junebug needed from the pilot while the dam was being built and she didn't press for details.

In spite of her initially optimistic outlook, it took a week to build a damn tight enough that Junebug felt comfortable turning on the pumps. The walls of timber faced with plastic sheeting did the job well and six hours later the Highlander sat, slightly canted in a meter or so of water, its hull resting on the sandy bottom of the eastuary. It seemed that the more time wen't past the more somber the normally ebulliant Quetzalli became and it wasn't exactly a surprise when, on the evening the last engine was put into what Neil somewhat hopefully termed 'working order', the girl appeared before her.

"What can I do for you?" she asked as she pulled her head from one of the engine ducts, wiping grease on her coveralls and pulling away the welders mask she had been wearing.

"Everything ok?" The girl nodded. She was attired in a much grander style now in a cloak similar to the feathery one Junebug had been given but in red and gold rather than blue. 

"I can can not come with you when you return to heaven," Quetzalli said, her large eyes filling with tears as she spoke. Her Imperial was improving by leaps and bounds though her accent remained extremely thick to Junebugs ears. The merceneary paused in shock.

"What? Why?" she asked in genuine chagrin.

"Rakeeri choose me, my people, without me big war for Chinapochzli," she explained, shuddering slightly at what the words cost her. It made a certain amount of sense. The death of so many of the nobles at the Games had doubtlessly thrown the political situation in Chaos, if not for Wetumpkah rallying the tribes against the Highlander's crew, they would almost certainly have fallen to immediate civil war. Suddenly Quetzalli's decaying mood made sense, she must have known days ago that she faced this decision. Sayeeda was not a person to whom physical contact was easy but she reached out and took the girl's hands in her own.

"Are you sure. We will take you..." the girl shook her head in violent denial before Junebug could complete the sentence.

"Be duty so many people, very heavy," she explained, her Imperial breaking down slightly at such a complex concept but the meaning was clear enough. Quetzalli looked up at her with her big eyes filled with tears. Damn it the girl looked attractive even when she was crying. There was no justice.

"Do you think Neil stay with me?" she asked fearfully. A heavy weight settled across Junebug along with an icy clarity that she had often felt in the field. Neil might well be fond of the girl, perhaps even love her, but it seemed vanishingly unlikely that he would give up the chance to ever fly again. Quetzalli clearly read the answer in her eyes before Sayeeda could speak it and her gaze fell. Junebug squeezed her shoulder.

"You can ask him," she said simply and the girl nodded and enfolded her in a hug that she wasn't quite prepared for and then hurried away. What if Neil did prefer exile in tropical paradise to likey death in a blind RIP jump? Well that would be a problem to deal with when it arose.

"Stars what a mess," Junebug said to herself before turning and closing the access plate. The telltales lit up green. The Highlander was ready to fly.

[@POOHEAD189]