Like Moths to a Flame

"You know a mammoth exists, why can't you believe there is a Moose?"

"Jason, there is zero pre-Yousonian sources depicting a moose. None!"

"Absence of evidence is not..."

"Are you taking refuge in truisms?"

"No I'm trusting the texts...historian."

"Trust the documents. Not the authors. There are plenty of reasons for the Yousonian government to fabricate a moose."

"Oh! So maybe you should tell the Sasquatch's that. Sorry General, your homeland is fabricated."

"You are forcing that poor degree of yours to support political takes now too?"

As the faces got more red and the beer vanished, the conversation got more heated when Jason noticed the light.

At first it was just a flicker, reflected faintly across the RV’s ceiling. Then it flashed again. And again.

Jason froze.

“That’s… that’s Morse,” he said slowly.

Cody glanced up. “You sure? What's it say?”

Jason squinted toward the window as the light repeated the pattern.

 GT : DA : H : OVR : H

They were moving before the signal finished.

Cody burst out the RV door first, boots hitting snow. Jason followed a heartbeat later, grabbing a retractable pole fitted with a small lasso from the closet near the bathroom.

Outside, the wind had picked up sharply, whipping snow sideways through the clearing. The source of the signal resolved itself overhead: a massive moth-like figure, wings beating hard against the gusts, light pulsing from a lamp strapped to her helmet.

“She’s having trouble landing,” Cody shouted.

“I see her,” Jason yelled back. “Light the hoop!”

Cody flicked on his flashlight, steadying the beam onto the end of the pole as Jason extended the lasso upward. The wind tugged violently. When the hook caught, Jason felt the sudden, unmistakable weight of a body.

“Got her!”

The pole jerked. For a terrifying second it began to slip from his hands. Jason staggered, boots skidding in the snow, then leaned his full weight into it.

Cody moved in behind him without a word, bracing Jason like a living anchor. Together, they reeled her down.

The moth-woman stopped flapping as soon as her work boots hit the ground— striking hard, but not cleanly. She collapsed forward, straight into Jason, who cushioned her fall.

“Hello, Cassie,” Cody said mildly. “Good to see you again.”

“Zip it,” she snapped. “I’m freezing my tail off.”

Her voice was distorted from the mask and goggles she wore. She gave Jason a jab on his shoulder. “Help. Up.”

Jason pushed Cassie up, who then helped him up. Cody  hustled towards the RV door and opened it. Jason noticed only then how weighed down she was—messenger bags slung everywhere, gear clanking softly strapped to her metal and leather carapace.

Inside, warmth hit them all at once.

Cassie shrugged off her jacket—a heavy, padded leather affair stitched in segmented strips to accommodate her wings—and hung her mining helmet with metal antenna on a hook. Her long black hair was clumped with sweat and half-frozen snow. After removing her large reflective goggles and mask. Her pale, freckled face was flushed a furious red from the cold, irritation etched plainly into her large red eyes.

“Glad you made it all the way up here,” Jason said.

“All the way is damn right,” she shot back. Her long pointed fingers pushing at him, as he walked backwards.
 “You realize ‘close’ meant an hour-long plane ride then another thirty minute flight?”

She pushed him again he walked backwards, almost tripping on the spilled beer bottles.

“We’re closer than we were last week,” Jason said defensively.

She shoved him.

Jason stumbled backward until the couch caught him. Cassie followed, grabbing a blanket from the couch and wrapping herself in it as she collapsed on top of him. She pressed close, wings shifting beneath the fabric, then nudged his mouth with a soft, almost exhausted kiss.

“No talking,” she murmured. “I’m very cold.”

Cody stood there in silence, pointedly studying the opposite wall.

Under the blanket, Cassie’s wings moved in slow, steady rises and falls, like a machine cycling down. She tucked her head beneath Jason’s chin and threaded her fingers through his. Jason found the little feather antennae above her ears and breathed on them warmly.

Her face melted into a weak pout. "Stop it. I'm trying to be mad at you!" He continued. She shuddered and the wings under her blanket retracted.

"Its been miserable. The squatches keep needling us with permits, Katy's still a bitch. The worksite computer was down, and I had to use a slide rule! A slide rule, Jason!"

"I guess you owe Prof McDonough an apology."

"I guess...." Jason moved the blanked around and adjusted her to his side. She hugged her knees as she lay on him, her long legs and feet poking out from under the blanket.

"Mating Season is coming up. Why can't we can join the Light Dance this time."

"I don't have enough for the spermadafor, Cassie."

"No one's gonna know, Jase." she looked over and saw the pile of coins in a box, his weeks of work and saving. "Just put a few of those in a cigar box with a bottle of hooch."

"You're parents will know."

"I'm tellin you my mama's idea. That's what Pa gave 'er."

"What if I have to pass it to another girls? Everyone in town will know."

"So? That's good. Underbid. I don't want anyone stealin' you." 

Jason paused and thought for a moment. Unable to find more excuses he changed the subject.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, but Cody can." 

Cody who was inching himself away on the far end of the counter while nursing his beer looked over to his old collegemates. "Can I offer you some of my finest Amaroq Imports."

"Cody, just because you drove yer keg of unicorn piss across the border, don't mean it's an import. 'ere."

She unstrapped her metal carapace which fell down with a thud. Fished a bottle out with her fingers. "Acorn coffee, traditional."

"How traditional?"

"Very Traditional."

Jason pointed to a cabinet covered with hand-drawn maps and journals. Cody grabbed a bottle and added some hot water from an electric kettle and some crystals.

It was served in a chipped UVA "Wise College" mug, their venerable Alma Mater. The coffee dark and steaming with a generous shot of 'mothdew' mixed in. She took it with both hands, letting the warmth soak into her fingers before taking a careful sip.

She unfolded from the fetal curl she’d been in, now sitting upright on her boyfriend’s lap. Dainty — insofar as that word could apply to a tomboy in a crimson sweater and overalls.

Cody seized the moment to break the quiet. He eyed the bottle he’d poured from. “I don’t see a label on this.”

“That’s ’cause there ain’t one,” Cassandra said matter-of-factly. “Meemaw gave it to me—or, I guess, gave it to Jason." 

"My Vault Day present." Jason grumbled.

"We’d been dating a couple years, so they gave a couple's gift. ”

Jason smiled. “What she means is, they gave it to her through me.”

“Don't get mad, take the damn hint. Plus, you can have some anytime, dear,” Cassandra added.

“I don’t like it,” Jason said. 

She smiled down into her mug, then glanced up at Cody with a wry grin that showed the small gap in her teeth. “You’re welcome to some, Cody. You could even put it in your beer if you want to add alcohol.”

Cody hesitated, then obliged, pouring a small splash of the sharp-smelling hooch into his bottle. “All right. Just don’t make me go blind. I’m driving us out to the Ridge tomorrow.”

"Speaking of Cody, I didn't know you had casual clothes. Why are you dressed up like my Uncle Barrett?"

"You thought I would wear my academic letterman and pressed jeans on a trip to the wilderness?"

Cody's eyes went wide as he realized what he just said, Cassie and Jason looked at each other and smirked.

"That hunting trip was a one time mistake and you know it! Besides...My book is finished and under review right now."

Jason looked surprised. "Wait, I thought you were still researching the Guidestones."

"Nope, its been a very busy year, and frankly I'd rather not waste it by giving scholars reason to dismiss my theory."

Cassie turned, "Oh Cody, you aren't going all out on your "Lost Qonadah Civilization" are you?"

Cody held out his hands with open palms. "Not at all, I just sufficiently dismantled all of the theories that implying they are Yousonian, hint they are Post-Yousonian, and leave doubts they are Post-restoration."

"Well look at you, big dog of historical scholarship!"

"Thanks, well I'd rather my book spur further research, not have the author dismissed as a moose chasing lunatic." Cody turned to Jason. "No offense."

"None taken, jerk." 

She swung her legs off his lap and stood, keeping the blanket draped around her shoulders. She offered him a hand up, then moved toward the cabinets above the sink.

“So,” she said, “show me what you found.”

Cody nodded. “I brought some ancient regional maps. Wed-Mal was built near the ancient Yousonian city of Et Mountain. The site was allegedly a place where moose could be found.”

Jason, rummaging through a cabinet, turned with a grin that lit his eyes. “You all just help me find the place,” he said. “I’ll find us the moose.”

He pulled out a plaster cast and several dirt and rock samples.

Cody let out a startled low whistle.

Cassandra leaned closer, studying the cast. 

“Well,” she said louder, “those are the biggest deer tracks I’ve ever seen.” She glanced up. “And I saw the one that totaled Cousin Scooter’s van.”