Page 112 of Casualties of War
Chapter Twenty-Three
With the fractured sleep everyone in the house was putting up with now, it wasn’t a huge surprise to Téra to see a strip of light emerging from behind the nearly closed door to Minnie and Rubén’s office.
She pushed the door open, expecting to see Chloe bent over satellite images as she had been for hours, now.
Chloe sat up as the door opened and flipped her ripplinghair back over her shoulder. Her smile was incandescent.
“What’s happened?” Téra breathed.
Chloe spun the set of photos laying on the table in front of her around, then pushed them toward Téra.
Téra looked.
They were almost completely black. There were streaks and blots on them that might have been something whizzing past the lens at high speed, or just a wonky photo.
“Someone dropped a cigarette?”Téra guessed.
Chloe rolled her eyes. “This is the satellite that passed over Vistaria six hours ago, more or less. It’s the view of Pascuallita from five hundred kilometers up.”
“So, not a cigarette, then.” Téra turned her head. “Six hours ago makes it eight pm. That explains the dark. I don’t get the rest of it.”
“This is in the hills behind Pascuallita,” Chloe explained with a patient tone.“Up by the snow level, where there aren’t any trees left. Those are camp fires, Téra. They’rebigcamp fires. Big enough to be seen from space…almost as if someone wants us to see them.”
Téra’s heart gave a little jump. “You think Cristián did this? There are thousands of homeless people on Vistaria now. It could be anyone.”
Chloe shook her head and reached for other photos. She put two of themin front of Téra. “Cristián and I used to talk all the time. The only inviolate, unbreakable schedule was eight o’clock, every night. Even if it was to say ‘Hi, I’m busy, see you tomorrow.’ Neither of us broke that schedule until two days ago. Now this.” She tapped the two new photos. They were both black. “This one was two minutes before eight.” She tapped the other one. “This one was two minutesafter eight.”
She tapped the middle one with its streaks. “This was thirty seconds after eight pm.”
“You’re saying someone set up huge fucking fires that stayed lit for…what? Sixty seconds? Then put them out again?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Chloe said. “Lookat them, Téra. Look at how they’re arranged. Does it remind you of anything? Step back and see them from a distance.”
Téra sighedand stepped back. “Streaks and dots,” she declared. “Wait…dots.” She looked up at Chloe, her heart lifted. “Dots and dashes. Morse code.”
Chloe’s smile was radiant.
“What does it say?” Téra asked, breathless.
“C. P. S.”
“Cristián Peña y Sanabria,” Téra whispered.
Chloe whirled away from the table but not before Téra saw the sparkle of tears on her cheeks. She kept her back to Téra, pretendingto stare out the window.
“He’s alive,” Téra said, happiness touching her.
“And well enough to send me a message,” Chloe said, her voice strained. Her grip on the curtain she was holding to one side made her knuckles white.
Téra picked up the photo with the streaks on it. “Can I take this? I’d like to show Minnie and when there’s a chance, we should tell Duardo.” Only, Duardo had his hands full,by now.
No one would say it aloud although everyone in the house knew that earlier tonight the Loyalist Army had launched their assault across the straights, to gain a beachhead on the mainland of Vistaria.
It was why everyone was sleepless.
“Knock yourself out,” Chloe said, her tone distant.
Téra dashed to find Minnie, happy to be the bearer of good news for a change.
