They took off their backpacks and torches and passed them through the space. The new tunnel was low and close and airless. It seemed to wind and double back on itself. Sorrel gave herself up to the journey, touching Emrallie in front of her, feeling Sarane’s hand from behind on her own shoulder. Quick death, slow death, she thought.

After uncounted hours, there was a subtle lightening in the darkness and the males in front stopped, looking upwards. Sorrel saw the grey of the night sky above them and felt fresh air on her face. She breathed deeply. The torchlight glinted on the metal of the old ladder Kes had described. He whistled and there was an answering whistle. “Geo? Mando?” he called out.

“Guata man. We thought you were lost.”

“Where’s the rope?”

“We pulled it up.”

“Suppose we were being chased?”

There was no answer but a thick rope with knots tied at regular intervals fell into the cave. “Journey, you go up first. Tell them we have strangers with us. Females,” Kes said.

“Females?” said the voice above.

Journey climbed the rope easily, hand over hand. Would all the females be able to follow? Many were so weak now. Sorrel filled her lungs and watched how the males climbed the rope, snaking up it like one of the caterpillar-type insects they used to eat. According to Kes, they were going to a place where all the birds and insects had been killed and eaten. She remembered her first sight of the ravine where she had lived for almost a year and felt a lancing, immobilizing loss. Then it was her turn to climb. “I’ll give you a little boost,” Kes said, at her side. His breath was warm on her cheek.

“It’s not necessary,” she said, turning away. “Help the two you injured. And Pia.”

There was a pale full moon that night and the male camp had an abandoned look. Half of it was in the deep shadow of the cliffs that created the valley, eerie in the faint moonlight. There were no sounds at all. They killed all the insects, Sorrel thought.

“Wait here,” Kes said to the Tribals. “Sorrel and Caroni, you come with me.” The three other males stepped forward to join Kes, but Rashelope barred their way. “You wait with us,” she said. Kes nodded at them.

He led the way to one of the lean-tos they’d seen on the PlAK. “They’re decoys,” he explained. Of course, Sorrel thought. No one would have been able to shelter in the day under a lean-to, no matter how high in the mountains they were, nor would they be any use in a rain bomb or hurricane.

Kes ducked into one of the shelters, made with long sticks fastened to a frame. “These are things we can afford to lose,” he said, kicking at a pile of tool handles.

“We made those into weapons,” Sorrel said. You’re wasteful, she wanted to add.