Their clothes had likely saved them, he quickly realized. The parkas’ thick padding and high collars had protected their torsos and throats, and the knit caps had served as a crucial bit of cushion for their skulls.
“Not bad, all things considered.”
“Your shield idea saved the day.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Where’s High Flier?”
“Tangled in the tree.”
“Do I still have the bamboo?”
Sam saw the end of it jutting from her collar. “Yes.”
“Does my face look as bad as yours?” Remi asked.
“You’ve never looked more lovely.”
“Liar—but thank you. The sun is setting. What now?”
“Now we get rescued. I build you a fire, then go find some friendly villagers who will offer us cozy beds and hot food.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
Sam pushed himself to his feet and stretched his limbs. His entire body hurt, a throbbing pain that seemed to be everywhere at once.
“Be right back.”
It took him only a few minutes to find the emergency chute pack, which had been ripped off his back during the crash. It took longer to find the duffel bag, however; it had fallen when the platform’s last riser had given way. Of the seven or so bricks that had been left, he found three.
He returned to Remi and found she had managed to sit upright with her back against the tree. Soon he had a brick burning in a small dirt circle next to her. He placed the two remaining bricks beside her.
“I’ll be back in a flash,” he said.
“I’ll be here.”
He gave her a kiss, then headed off.
“Sam?”
He turned. “Yes.”
“Watch out for Yetis.”
37
GOLDFISH POINT, LA JOLLA,
CALIFORNIA
“I have a translation for you,” Selma said, walking into the solarium. She walked to where Sam and Remi were reclined on chaise longues and handed Remi the printout.
“That’s fantastic,” Remi replied with a wan smile.
Sam asked Selma, “Did you read it?”
“I did.”