Vox Mentis

Back at the airport, Tom's partner said something about Austen screwing them over. Sounds like they have a traitor. So, there's a traitor who can apparently do...mind control junk. A poet? That means his entire group is just, gone, then. Some background would be nice. What is Wolf. What is Other Group. That sort of thing.

You take a breath. "What is Wolf?"

"Not what," says Tom. "Who. Virginia Woolf."

"Ah," you say. "Another poet. Right. Was that Woolf?"

Tom looks at you. "What?"

"That woman."

"No," Tom says.

"Oh."

"If that was Woolf, I would be weeping tears of joy."

"Oh."

"Your hometown, Broken Hill? Woolf did that. Not a chemical spill. Woolf. I would be dancing a jig if that was Woolf."

"Got it," you say.

"Not Woolf," Tom says. "Not Woolf."

You sit in silence. Nothing moves but the wind. "Did you know that woman in the transport?"

"Yes."

"Why did she try to kill us?

Tom doesn't answer.

And your friend? And what about those people sitting in the mud? We could have gotten away. You just had to run over them."

"Yeah," Tom says.

"Why didn't you?" Tom doesn't answer. "You shot that woman."

"Austen."

"What?"

"Her name was Austen."

"As in... Jane Austen? An author name?"

"Jane Austen wrote poetry too."

The man - your former friend, I suppose, called you Elliot. I'm going to start calling you that now, too.

"Okay," you say. "I get it. That guy called you Eliot. You're Tom Eliot. Right? T. S. Eliot. You're a poet."

Eliot sighs. "Was."

"You were a poet? So what are you now?"

"I'm not sure," Eliot says. "Ex-poet, I guess."

"So your friends... this "other group" we were supposed to meet up with... they turned bad?"

"They were compromised."

"What does that mean?"

"Woolf got to them."

"What does-"

"It means she's very persuasive."

"Persuasive? She's persuasive?"

"I told you, poets are good with words." Eliot stands. Snow falls from his coat. "Time to go."

"So let me get this straight. You're telling me Woolf persuaded them to try and murder us? As in, she said, 'Hey, how about you trap your buddy Tom Eliot in a cattle yard and try to run him down with a truck,' and they did? Because she's persuasive? What, is this fucking mind control?"

"I said very persuasive. Get up."

There's nothing but snow in every direction. "Where are we going?"

"I had a thought," says Eliot. "Maybe the plane really is here."

~

You trudge through blackness and snow until you can no longer feel anything. Your nerves retreat somewhere deep inside where there's still warmth. Your nose is a memory. You've not only never been this cold, you never understood this degree of cold was possible. You begin to hope poets find you, because whatever happens at least it'll be warm.

You stumble. "Aha!" says Eliot. "Runway." You can't see him. "Let's try... this way."

After a few minutes, the stars begin to vanish. There are noises. Eliot takes your arm and you find steps. At the top of those, the air is different. Warmer. Dear God, Warmer.

"Sit," says Tom. "Don't do anything." He moves away and you hear banging and switches flicking somewhere far away.