“Everything matters,” he said, wondering what had gone wrong.

“What happened just now was magic,” she said, placatingly.

“That’s good,” he said.

“I just want you to know that whatever happens, what happened between us mattered. It mattered a lot.”

“This isn’t the Girl Scouts, Kelly. You don’t have to play by somebody else’s rules. Why don’t you just say what you mean?” he said, certain she was thinking of someone else. He wondered why Harris never told him there was another man in her life. It wasn’t like Harris to have missed something that crucial. It wasn’t like him at all.

“Suppose there was someone else; someone far away,” she began.

“Right now far away sounds like a good place to be,” he said.

Ascent

Ascent

“HOW ARE WE EVER GOING to get out of here?” Kelly asked, her throaty voice echoing in the hollow silence.

“There’s only one way out of a well,” the Scorpion replied, looking upwards as he marched around the sides of the well. He held the lamp high above his head, examining the rock walls in the dancing light of the flame with the careful attention of an archaeologist in an ancient tomb.

“How are you going to get up there? By flying? Not to mention that it takes at least two men to move the rock sealing the opening,” she said, unable to conceal her disbelief.

“We’re going to climb out,” he said, scrutinizing every detail of the rock. He stopped and held the lamp as high as he could so that the light from the flame was cast high up the side of the well. He studied the rough face, the cracks and crevices in the worn rock on one side for several minutes, calculating distances. Even fractions of an inch might make all the difference, he thought.

“I hate to mention this, but I skipped boot camp this year. The highest thing I’ve climbed since the fourth grade is a bar stool,” she said.

“It’s never too late to start,” he grinned and tore a long strip off his headcloth. He wrapped the cloth around the handle of the stone-age chisel and tied it tightly. He squatted down and after a moment’s hesitation, began chipping at the rock at a spot about two feet above the sand. At the first blow, tiny chips flew and a small white dimple appeared in the stone. The handle twisted in his hand on the next blow and he tightened his grip. He stabbed again and a large chip flew past, barely missing his leg.