Isobel hadn't been able to sleep. The imprinting hurt too much, and even if her head didn't feel like it was being slowly crushed, she was too wired from the previous days events. Montgomery had slept fitfully while she'd sat by the window, watching as the canopy turned to late morning.

  She'd sent word to Admiral Vin via hologram courier orb, and he'd promptly replied, telling her to meet him at the station that afternoon.

  Havoc was wreaking, he'd said. He had news to share.

  Montgomery rustled from under the pile of quilts, sticking his head out and staring at her blankly.

  "Good morning," Isobel said. She sat in a chair next to the window, the morning light catching her silhouette.

  He sat up and stretched, staring sleepy eyed at her a long moment. "How long did I sleep?"

  "Six or so hours. It's almost noon."

  He rubbed his eyes. "How long have you been up?"

  "I couldn't sleep. I sent a message to Admiral Vin. He replied saying that he wants us to meet him at the station this afternoon. He has news."

  Montgomery got out of the bed and ran a hand through his hair as he yawned. "You better get that imprinting camouflaged if we're headed out. Plus the black circles around your eyes. Looks like that orbital punched you in the nose."

  Isobel held up a container for Montgomery to see. "I'm ahead of you. My mother wears this sometimes. It might do the trick," she said and walked to the mirror. She dabbed the concealing cream onto each puncture hole and around her eyes, turning to Montgomery when she was done.

  He chuckled. "Well, it's somewhat better. It'll do."

  "It'll have to. We'll take the long way around central Landgraevan to the station. Avoid the chaos," she said, sitting at the edge of the window and staring down to the crowded street again.

  "It's been building up all morning, everyone running around confused. I hate the feeling I get before a war, this anxiety, like we're fighting the wrong enemy. All these insane wars. I don't know what we're going to do, Montgomery. At the very least, we're both getting drafted. You'd probably be better off without me," she said, looking to him sadly, and the thought was startlingly painful.

  "Landgraevan is always waging war, with or without your help, Isobel."

  "You could join the ministry, like your family wants, then you'd be safe from the draft."

  "Like Darby, you mean?" he asked, referring to his uncle who held some position of importance in Landgraevan Ministry of Internal Affairs. Montgomery came from a long line of inner ministry employees, and his modest future was more or less guaranteed. By refusing to follow the family industry, he had opened himself to the draft.

  "Yes, like Darby. You would have done your family proud, Montgomery, had I not corrupted you," she said.

  "You ruined me bad, Isobel," he chuckled.

  "Maybe it's not too late to talk to Uncle Darby," she suggested.

  "Once in the ministry, always in the ministry. Better to take my chances with you and the draft."

  "Maybe we should leave; just you, me, and Ash - you know?" she suggested.

  "Not this again," he groaned.

  "Montgomery, it would be a new chance at everything," she beseeched.

  "A new chance at what? Premature death?" he asked, sardonically.

  "What if it's not as horrific as Landgraevan tells us it is. What if what they tell us is a lie, like the wars, like everything else? What if the wastelands aren't so bad after all?" Her voice faltered, and she felt silly even suggesting such a thing.

  "Isobel, some things are fact, like the frozen wasteland past the canopy. Hell, we saw it from Bucky last night. You can't deny it."

  "So. It's frozen. The marauders manage it. Once we get past the frozen lands who knows what we'll find."

  "Exactly. Who knows. It would takes weeks, at a steady pace, if the weather held. Then what if what we find is worse than what we have? Then what?" he asked.

  "I'm not saying that we should try something that extreme. We'd stay close to Landgraevan."

  "Where would we go then, even if I agreed to such an absurd idea?"

  "Maybe Babbocks Cove. Admiral Vin spoke of it once. The harbor is frozen solid, but it's out of Landgraevan, and he mentioned that there are large underground caves with natural hot springs. We'd be safe for a while to wait out the war."

  "How would we get there?"

  "We'd travel south along the Pythean range, as far away from the frozen northlands as we can get." Isobel's heart beat a bit faster at the idea.

  "You're talking about a ten day journey on foot," he said.

  "Yes, something like that. Admiral Vin mentioned ships in the frozen harbor, hundreds of them, laden with stores and treasure," she concluded, the last word drawn out.

  Montgomery loved a good treasure hunt.

  "Let's say I agree. My folks are a bit traditional, you know, being involved with the ministry and all. Since I didn't join the family business, they'll expect me to fight, not run away. If I avoid the draft I wont have a home to come home to."

  "But you're not a fighter, Montgomery. You can't go to war. If your family expects you to put your life on the line for a false cause then you already don't have a home."

  "They think they have a cause. I can't change that."

  "You can change the odds of you going to war, though."

  Montgomery rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes. "I'd say the odds of that are stacked against both of us, Isobel. Anyway, let's get going. It'll take us some time to get to the station."

  Isobel reached behind her and grabbed a mug of lukewarm liquid off the small table next to the window, handing it to Montgomery. "Here. It's a bit cold, but it'll get you going."

  He accepted the cup and downed the rest of the bitter black liquid with a shivery sigh of satisfaction.

 
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