The desert was still a brief moment, before the wind carried the subtle notes of a high pitched whine across the yellow sand. Far away from any sign of civilization, a helicopter slowly whirled to life in a recessed flat atop a mesa. Around the edges of this indent was a stone overhang, carved from the rock and supported by concealed beams. The aircraft sat on a wide sled, itself affixed to camouflaged rails leading into an adjacent cave.
Reaper and Virgil stood inside a nearby alcove, sealed from the noise and gathering storm of dust. Reaper stared out a small window, but not focused on the helicopter beyond.
“We really ought to build a second bay,” Reaper said. A muffled sigh escaped their mask.
“Too late for oughts,” Virgil said. “Nothing to do but choose, even if we pick the wrong destination, we can always check the other later and look for clues.”
“That’s fair, but doesn’t tell me which to pick first. I mean, should we go to Eastern, because it was the first signal, or Central, because the signal was much stronger? What do you think, Virgil?”
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He was silent for a moment. “We… well, you might say, I have two minds on the question,” Virgil said with a grin. Reaper gave him a flat look. “But I think Central’s our best bet.”
Reaper peered into his eyes. “Are you worried he might be there?” They shifted focus to the rest of his face. “Or are you hoping he will be?”
Virgil laughed. “I don’t think the odds are good either way. We’re not talking about her after all. He’s done a good job staying under the radar.”
“Why is it you always disagree when it’s difficult?” Reaper sighed. “In any case, I was also leaning towards Central. We’ve gotten anomalous readings from Wychwood before, and there was that strange spider you told us about. Tell the crew to plot a course, I’ll brief the team.”
Reaper left the room through a door that lead away from the helicopter. Virgil stepped towards the exit, pausing a moment to look out the window himself. His eyes were equally unfocused.
“I’m sure he’s fine. You worry too much.”