Welcome to the Jungle (Rannveig 00)

Prologue

Saturday, 16 September 1905

30 Kilometers North of Rjukanfossen*

Southern Norway

The meteorological phenomena continue - unexplained, unrelenting. Some call it global warming, but that term feels woefully inadequate. Ecological menace is closer to the mark.

Meow, Simone says from the copilot seat, reading my thoughts - as she always does. A cool wash of calm flows through me. Her doing.

"Exactly," I reply, sending thoughts of love back toward her. "And the Thing** wants us to find out what’s happened to Rjukanfossen - " MEOWWWWWWW!

"Yes, I know Oslo and all of Norway may be affected, but the mission parameters are focused on the hydroelectric project.***"

Meow.

"You see," I continue, "Norway is newly autonomous - no longer under the thumb of Sweden or those infernal Danes. This project will vitalize her, make her a power once again. The world is changing: Steam power, flight, wireless.**** Keep up or be left behind -
"And I have no intention for our people to be left behind."
Meow.

"Yes, of course I still identify as Icelandic. Someday we’ll be free - even of Norway. But first things first - "

I’m flying the Avro Bournemouth - though we call it the Búrmúðr - a behemoth of an aircraft, triple-engined. Top speed: 290 km/h, though I’ve throttled back to 250. The round trip from Reykjavík to Rjukan, near the waterfall, is 3,800 kilometers. That’s within operational range -
Barely -
Assuming the weather cooperates. Headwinds slow us. Cold air increases drag; warm air thins the lift. The sweet spot is around 2,800 meters. On a clear day. Rain and snow complicate everything. Avoiding them means avoiding a crash landing on the return leg -
But like I said: First things first.

Last week, we lost wireless contact with the Rjukanfossen settlement - and then with the Norwegian mainland. RFC***** reconnaissance flights reported massive jungles and rainforests erupting across Southern Norway, cloaking the land like a blanket. Denmark and Sweden remain untouched.

Retribution for Norwegian independence?

Plenty resent it, to be sure. No shortage of those who’d see Norway fall. And the power plant is a prime target -

Meow.
"I know. No one should be able to pull this off. But you’ve heard the whispers - "
Meow.
"I know you don’t want to believe in sorcery, but something’s behind this. Rumors point to our former overlords. Like the quote says: Something is rotten in the state of Denmark." I glance at the instrument panel - speed, heading, time. We’re close.

"Ahh, there’s a clearing dead ahead," I say. "Looks like part of the power station - "
MEOWWWWWWW!
Simone materializes on the instrument panel, peering out with her superior vision. She sees scorch marks around the clearing.

"Buckle up," I tell her. "I’m starting the landing cycle - "

I nose the aircraft down. The winds pick up -
MEOWWWWWWW!

"It’s not me," I point out. "It’s the air and - " The trees whip violently in the wind - It feels like we’re plummeting -

No. The altimeter disagrees - But the ground - the flora! - is racing toward us - I go full throttle. The engines roar. The Bournemouth climbs -

Then -

Mooring lines leap from the jungle - Attaching -
Wrapping -
Binding the wings -
The aerocraft rocks violently as our forward momentum halts -

MEOWWWWWWW!
Simone yowls as the straps bite into her -

"Gods be-damned vines!" I shout, angling the craft away and —
SNAP!

The center prop - sheared off.

KRUNCH!
The port engine -
Ripped from the wing.
The plane lurches -

"We’re going down!" I yell. My hand falls to my belt buckle -

Algiz. Rune of protection.

I begin -

Chanting - The Hávamál.******
Allfather*******, help us!

The ground surges upward -
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

* * * * *

Meow.

I feel Simone licking my cheek. She purrs as I open my eyes.

"We made it - OWWW!" I wince, unbuckling. "Fenrir’s Bite! That was brutal."

Meow, in confirmation.

"Allfather be praised," I say, grateful nothing’s broken when we should be dead. "Bearer of Runes, my path is clear and my breath is strong."

Meow.

"Yes, I see we’ve landed at the base of the falls," I confirm. "We can’t stay here and the vines are gone. Let’s do what we came to do - "
Meow.
"No, I don’t expect you to walk through the water." I glance at my shoulder. "Hop on." She does.

I grab my sword from the cargo hold -
And speak the runebound words:

"The cautious guest who comes to the feast, is silent and listens and learns."******** The runes glow amber. The blade buzzes and shines with energy. Armed with Odin’s might, we exit the venerable Bournemouth, stepping into the lush - if not entirely dry - rainforest terrain.

Simone leaps from my shoulder. I follow -

Vines shoot from the flora, wrapping around my legs, locking me in place -
That’s why I brought the sword -

I’ll just cut through -

But my swordarm -

Cannot move -

As the vines start pulling me down -

Footnotes

* Rjukan Falls

** The Thing... colloquial for Althing is the national Thing of Iceland, founded in 930 at Thingvellir. It is the longest running democratic governmental body in the world. In 1905, Iceland was a Danish territory. This is factual. In my story, I place Iceland as a Norwegian territory.
*** Not a dam, but a series of intake tunnels and other structures to divert water to turbines.
**** Radio. Not Wi-fi. This is only 1905.
***** Royal Flying Corps, British military aviation, which became the Royal Air Force in 1918.
****** The Havamal is a verse compilation of wisdom, ethics, and magical lore attributed to Odin and is part of the Poetic Edda, one of the most important manuscripts from the Viking age.
******* Odin
******** Havamal, Stanza 7