Flight (15 page)

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Authors: J.A. Huss

BOOK: Flight
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The view. I think it and it prints out on my helmet vision screen.

"You can talk until Tier calls for silence, Juncs."

"Sorry, I was just thinking to myself and Sera printed – never mind. Between the two of you there's not a private thought in my head."

"But the view, right?"

I smile. "Yeah, Is. It's pretty cool." I stare out at my home planet and push down the emotions even as the words escape involuntarily. "I'm home." I hear a collection of sighs and groans over my com and I regret letting them in on my relief.

A series of muffled booms explode outside and scare the shit out of me until I realize we just broke the sound barrier. I smile as I picture a pink contrail speeding out behind me like the suborbitals going in for a landing back home.

"Gotta love freefall." Isten is laughing and all the other guys are shouting with excitement.

Tier interjects, "Radio silence, as of now. If you've got something to say, use the helmet screens."

The coms go quiet and I'm glad. I just want to watch the Earth as I hurl towards her.

We are flying into the early darkness of night over the Northern Territories and I'm half sorry, half relieved that I can't see Peaks or Council 3 down below. There are flickering dots of lights every once in a while, but the glory of Peak City, the planet pad, and the urban sprawl is all gone. I shake off the feeling and concentrate on the map as the landing beacons flash our position and approximate time to arrival.

Jump info is scrolling down my vision screen and I log it, but my attention is on the ground. I watch as the guys below us all pull their chutes and slip away. I follow them on my vision screen map, six dots so close together they almost look like one.

Isten pulls our chute and we fly up and settle. I can feel him pulling and making adjustments behind me as we circle, then increase speed slightly to catch up with the rest of the guys. My altimeter stops jumping wildly and flattens out with a more constant rate of descent and we fall, steady but quick, and approach the one thousand foot mark.

OK, Juncs. We're almost there.

I feel the chute start to come apart above us and have a small moment of panic. Isten gentles me inside and I calm my heartbeat. And then the chute is gone and his wings flap out and he flies with me for a few moments, banking and turning until our primary landing beacon is flashing dead center on screen.

Ready?

Ready.

And then he's gone. I fall for a second, look behind me and then extend my wings. They catch the air, and lift me briefly, then I move the wrong way and the air slips past my feathers making me tumble a little. I pivot my posterior shoulders and make the correction until I have control over the hissing air as it catches in my canopy. I play with the angle of my wing tips and my acceleration changes slightly.

Isten zooms out ahead of me and I dive after him, wings pointed down my back, remembering my ride across the grasslands on Moju. My face is starting to hurt from smiling, but I don't stop.

I'm really here.

I'm really home.

And I have wings.

All right, let's get this fucking show on the road so I can get the hell out of here and pack up soldiering for good.

Sounds good to me, Juncs.

I have to stifle the laugh so Tier doesn't yell at me.
I was talking to me, Isten, not you!

Hey, you don't put up the walls, I listen in. And next time you and Tier wanna have a good time, you better put up the fucking walls. Or I swear–

Yeah, whatever. Pay attention. The ground is coming up to meet you, brother.

Watch the master, little sparrow.

He glides in and lands on his feet. I follow and fall on my face as Earth's G reminds me that a small girl carrying more than twice her own weight in supplies and weapons hasn't a chance of being graceful on landing.

Tier rolls me over and sits me upright as he snaps off my helmet. His scrunched-up eyes are bright green with concern. "Shit, Junco. I was worried you'd puke the whole time."

I swipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my disfigured hand while simultaneously slapping a mosquito off my neck with the other and look out at my world. "You don't have to worry about me, Tier. I'm working now."

He lets out a breath as Braun hoists the 50 cal from my chest. "Yeah, all right then. Let's go. We're hitting the mountaintop tonight, we'll take turns flying supplies up while you and Isten set up camp."

"Yes, sir."

I let him pull me up and unpack enough so I can fly up the mountain. I'm fucking sweating my ass off in the hot summer night, the pressure suit on top of the heavy slick-silver armor isn't making life any easier, and I've already caught myself wishing I was back at Lucan's house smoking on my breezy terrace more than once in the span of five minutes.

 

 

 

Camp is not a camp. We brought no tents and we make no fire. No one's tired so we just sit up there and rearrange the ammo and check and double-check our weapons and fill our ammo belts as Tier and Arel set up the coms. We make contact with Ryse and then Arel sets up a proxy beacon that will send a signal to the Northern Territories troops if they are still in this area. We don't expect a reply. If they're here, they'll come in person to make sure we are who we say we are. Now it's nothing but a miserable, humid waiting game.

At least the pressure suits are off. I'm folding mine up to stash with everyone else's, except the helmet, which doubles as armor, when I remember Layla's little packet.

I check to see what everyone's doing. Isten is off with Braun looking for water just in case our hydration packs run out, and I put up the wall. Inside the little pocket is a small envelope. I open it and shake out some pills. There's a little note with it and I unfold it in the dark and read it with the night vision.

An extra pill a day. Your twine knows.

Fuck. I reach out for Isten's position in the woods. He's not that far off and I get up to go find him.

"Junco?"

I turn towards Tier and crumple the little note up in my hand. He's sucking on a ration packet, frowning at me. "What?"

"Stay here."

I look out at the woods one more time, then sit down and sigh as I lie back on the rough wild grass. It shields me from the rest of the guys but only when I lie prone. If there's one major difference between the NT and the RR, it's the lack of care they've taken with the native mountain meadow grass. It's short, barely a foot tall anywhere you look, and sparse.

Only the conifers look familiar. Until you get up close, that is. Because most of them are wheat beetle-resistant strains that were planted less than a hundred years ago after they let the invasion decimate the old-growth forests. The Ponderosas on our ranch are – were, Junco – pushing three or four hundred years in some areas before that fucking Subjack burned the place down with nukes.

I'm starting to sour on this mission and I hope to God that seeing Moju isn't as disappointing as my reacquaintance with the home planet or I might have to lose my temper over the whole fucking nuclear strike thing.

I catch Tier looking at me again and turn away without hiding my anger. Isten was right. A mission is no place for a relationship. Tier and I are done until we get home.

 

 

 

Isten shows up hours later when I'm pretending to be asleep. I watch him as he relates the position of the running stream to Tier and Ashur and then wait patiently with walls up as he grabs a ration and fucks off throwing knives with Braun.

When he finally comes to find me I can barely contain my anger.

"What's up, Juncs?" He kicks me gently in the back, prodding me to turn. "I know you're faking it."

"I know you know, Isten. And you will not say anything, do you understand me? It's none of your fucking business."

He lies down and tips me up a little so he can slip his arms underneath and dip his head down into my ear to whisper, "Junco, when I said that shit before about Tier's babies I didn't know, OK? I would never do that to you. I heard you and Layla talking after, so I'm sorry. I won't say anything."

I turn around and look at him. His eyes are golden orbs, bright. Brighter than necessary for this little conversation. "You're hiding something."

"He's not stupid, Junco. We looked into this pregnancy shit after you told Ashur about the last time."

"He'll be busy soon enough. And I'm done spending time with him until this is over. You're right about that. I can't be two things at once, so–"

He sighs and turns over on his back, then brings my head to his chest. It's hard to hear through the armor, but if I lie very still and listen very carefully, I can find it. And then I count the beats until I sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

I jerk awake and have my mini-plasma out and trained on the forest. I take a moment and realize the entire team is doing the same thing. I get to my feet, jam my helmet on, activate the slick silver, and watch my helmet come to life with orders. We slide into formation. Our team goes left and Ashur's team goes right and we fan out from there. Tier is directing me to stay near him as Isten and Arel go forward.

I see a small orange glow flit in and out of the trees and slide the faceplate of my helmet up.

"It's Moju." Sera barks my orders across the collective helmet screens as I tell them to back off. This is my mission.

I deactivate the slick and walk forward into the woods, my footfalls announcing my presence as they crack twigs and dried-up pine needles, but fuck it. It's Moju.

He steps out from behind a tree and I catch his smile in my night vision.

"Brother?"

"Sister?"

I laugh and walk forward to meet him. When we are a body length apart he reaches in and grabs me, pulls me close and buries his head in my hair. "I knew you'd come."

The team forms up around us and Tier speaks while Moju continues to cling tight. "Are you alone?"

Moju nods, but doesn't let me go. I pick up his right hand and check his fingers. The pinky is missing and the scar is a jagged edge of bumpy skin. I look up into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Moj. I couldn't come in time for that, I was in Fledge and there was just no way–"

"Forget it, Juncs. I killed that one, he was a dick. In fact, I killed a shitload of Arens since then, there's only a few of them left."

I nod and swallow as I look over to Tier. Clones.

We walk back to camp in silence and when we get there we settle in the breaking dawn and wait for the story that no one really wants to hear.

He tells it exactly the way I would – with flippant detachment to the lives lost. What the fuck other way is there to tell a tale that involves annihilation of more than eight million people?

"Why, Moju? Why did he have to nuke them?" I see that he feels it was necessary, but I can't wrap my head around it. "I mean, those people in the RR and in Peaks, they were victims. I don't know the first thing about this Subjack guy, but–"

"Wait, what the fuck did you just say?" Moju looks over to Tier. "Tell me she's kidding, you asshole." Moju's eyes glow so bright they emit enough light to cast shadows. "I thought you of all people would have learned your lesson, you fucking piece of shit."

I look at Tier but he avoids my gaze. "What's going on?"

Tier stands but remains silent.

Moju stands as well and walks forward and stops only when his face is close enough to spit on him. The 039 is up and on their feet in a fraction, me included. Only I'm standing in between the guys and the team is pulling Moju away. Isten has Moju, but lets go as the razors come out and Moju slashes his chest armor.

"That's enough!" I bark the order like a commander and there's a brief moment of uncertainty. "I'm running this part of the mission, remember? So stand the fuck down and," I look over to Isten, "keep your fucking hands off my brother."

Isten backs off and I step away and go stand next to Moju. I look at each of them individually and it's all right there. The guilt is plain as day. "You fucking liars, what are you keeping from me now?"

Tier shakes his head. "Finish it, Moju."

I look up at my brother and feel a little wave of relief when he smiles and gives me a shrug. "That Subjack guy, Junco – is your father."

I laugh. "Right. Why the fuck wouldn't he be? I mean, shit – we got clones, we got AIs living inside me, we got a goddess who thinks she can control me, Lucan treating me weird, why the fuck wouldn't some random hick revolutionary be my dead father…"

I stop and take a deep breath as I turn my face away from them, and then I scream. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?" My chest heaves, but I'm not about to cry. I'm so fucking pissed off I can't even think straight. They all stand there waiting, faces long, expressionless, still, calm. I rush at Tier and push him in the chest, he moves backwards a fraction, but generally I have no effect on him. My face heats up and I turn and walk away. "Who the FUCK did I cut if this Subjack is my father?"

My team is silent. Only Moj takes a shot at it. "His clone, Juncs. He's been gone for a few years now, up in the Territories with the Subs. You killed a dirty clone, one of the worst, maybe. Don't sweat it, OK?"

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