“When will you be back?” Emery asked.
“If we win, we’ll stay a while to reestablish the community to safe levels,” Exton said. “Merra’s force is still stationed there. I know she wants to go after other imprisoned towns and URS supply lines under the cloud cover.”
“Ecological disaster has done quite a bit of damage,” Emery said. “But at least we can use it to our advantage.”
“While I’m gone,” he said, “try to stay out of trouble.” He pointed to her belly. “And take care of your baby. That’s my niece or nephew in there.”
Emery pushed him out the door. “I can take care of myself and my baby just fine,” she said. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“With good reason,” Exton agreed.
With his pack in his hand, he hurried off toward the hangar. He walked down the hall with certain steps, knowing he was hours away from fighting the enemy from a cramped fighter cockpit.
As he turned into the hangar, he saw that the doors were open and the rest of his combat squad—all his friends and coworkers from Perdition—were rushing around as Merra called out orders from her forward position.
Outside the hangar, he could see the clear blue of the sea and sky, the green of Antarctica’s once-hidden hills, as the sun shone brightly in its mid-morning ascent. Cutting through the light was the shadow of the Memory Tree.
In the morning light, the tree seemed to be a shade all its own. As Exton glanced at its stark lines, it conjured up the haunted feeling of his father’s memory.
He shook his head to clear his vision. He knew his father would be disappointed in his choices. But he also knew his father had died because he refused to see the failure of his ideas.
EXTON SETTLED DOWN deeper into the cockpit of his chosen MENACE fighter as he listened to the radio chatter between his squad members. There was a current of excitement running through the conversations as they headed closer to their target.
Almost as if they knew this day would come. Exton closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the full weight of that responsibility to fall into his full consideration.
The memory of St. Cloud standing over him at the Nova Scotian base came to his mind.
“You’ve ruined my plans before, but I won’t let you ruin them again.”
What plans? What plans had he ruined for St. Cloud?
Before he could find an answer, another memory fell into his mind’s eye. St. Cloud, standing over his father’s slumped body, the gun in his hand still smoking.
“Are you doing alright there, Captain?”
Ali’s voice came over his intercom from the ship beside him, dragging him out of his reminiscence.
“I’m fine,” Exton responded, even though his frown deepened. Ali sounded so young—of course, compared to his age, eighteen or nineteen was young.
“Just checking in, sir. Your flanking’s getting too close for comfort.”
“Adjusting now,” Exton said, as he shifted his plane a few degrees to the right. “Thanks.”
“Roger that, sir.” Ali’s response contained a barely smothered laugh.
“Ninety-nine, approaching target,” Merra called through the intercom, prompting Exton push his concerns away.
“Roger,” Exton replied automatically, echoing the responses of his team. His eyes glazed over the control panel before him, only focusing again when he turned and glanced out his portside window. There wasn’t much he could see, other than the vertical stabilizer of Ali’s fighter.
They’d entered Earth’s atmosphere not even an hour before. They came in near the equator, heading east, chasing after the sunlight.
“Okay, crew,” Merra called. “Chaya’s on lockdown; comms are being rerouted through Perdition’s filter. Once we’re over the land, drop down and cut off their power supply. Campus generators are located at the four corners of the campus. Use small missiles.”
“X-ray missiles should do the trick,” Ali said.
“Roger that,” Jared called. “I had a lot of those stocked in our arsenals specifically at Merra’s recommendation.”
Exton brooded over Jared’s excitement. This was probably the first time he’d been out of the Perdition since he came onboard, Exton realized. He hoped Jared, like Ali, would be able to keep his enthusiasm under control.
“The NETech can still get through,” another pilot called.
Exton wasn’t surprised to hear Greer. She was one of the Perdition’s tech analysts and had been one of the first to join them. Out of all the others Merra had listed for him to check, Exton knew she was quite good with strategy.
“Yes, but it will have its limitations.” Kamalo, whom Exton had only briefly met in the hangar down in Petra, chimed in over the intercom. “The way the NETech works is to stir the impulse and lead it toward action. We will be able to do much damage before backup can be deployed.”
“Roger,” everyone called.
The settlement of Chaya was located near the eastern shore near the old Mediterranean seashore. While the URS had several navy ships at their disposal, Exton knew from his time under St. Cloud’s tutelage that the real threat came from their Craftcarriers, large flying ships capable of providing intense air support and reinforcements. Fortunately, the URS had only commissioned a few of them, before they turned their interest toward his father’s work on the Perdition.
Of course, Exton thought, that was six years ago. He was unsure of how many more might have been finished since then.
In the dense clouds surrounding the middle of the world, there were lots of places to hide, and lots of places to place radio scramblers. There were any number of other concerns, too, from storms that could gather at a moment’s notice or toxic cloud formations.
“Tyler,” Exton called, pressing in the comm for the Perdition.
“Here.”
Exton almost smiled. Tyler’s voice was compliant, but full of disappointment. Exton had kept his word to Emery; he’d ordered Tyler to remain on the Perdition to keep track of their progress and reroute all URS communications from the surrounding areas.
“Chaya’s coming up. What’s the weather report?”
“Thora’s given me the data,” Tyler said. “No problems ahead. Despite the clouds, you’re in the clear.”
“Thanks.”
“You got it, Captain.”
Exton nearly rolled his eyes. “You can come next time,” he said. “I wouldn’t mope around if I were you.”
“You’ll have to run it by Emery first,” Tyler replied.
Exton laughed. “Speaking of my beloved sister, how is the Biovid doing?”
“I just got that report from her. All’s well. The Suncatcher’s running at max power.”
“Tell the engineers I said thanks,” Exton said. “I didn’t think St. Cloud’s Redbird would leave us any permanent damage.”
“The missile, no. But I’d watch the other one you’ve got on your squad,” Tyler said.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh. Emery said that St. Cloud used to call Merra ‘Redbird,’ as an affectionate nickname of sorts.”
“I can see where that one would give us more trouble,” Exton replied quietly.
“You’re coming up on the target,” Tyler said. “Watch yourself, Captain. We’ll be here when you get back.”
“You got it,” Exton said, before turning his attention forward. Chaya came into sight a moment later.
The Ecclesia had a long history with the settlement of Chaya; the fact that the small outpost had fallen while he was recuperating surprised him.
Maybe that was part of the plans that I ruined for St. Cloud; URS aggressions have increased over the years, despite the Perdition working to curb their international appetites.
“Chaya in sight,” Merra said.
“Roger,” everyone called.
Exton frowned. There were seven of them, he recalled. There was Jared, and Ali, Greer, Merra, and Kamalo. Who was the last pilot?
“Alice,” Merra cal
led. “You’re to maintain your position above the settlement to help guide the care package delivery once it arrives.”
Alice? Exton recalled the young woman with short blond hair. More than once, Emery had hinted at what a nice girl she was in hopes he would take notice of her. And in some ways he had—he saw right away she was besotted with him and the romantic, idealized version of himself he’d created in order to oppose the URS. Alice would never accept him for who he truly was.
Hearing she was accompanying them, he was suddenly wary.
What’s she doing with a fighter?
“Copy, Merra.” Alice’s voice was strong, even though he knew she was nervous.
He paged her over the intercom. She answered him quickly.
“Alice,” Exton said, “if you fear you are in danger, do not hesitate to leave and find cover. You can help us from a distance. That’s a direct order.”
“Yes, Captain,” she replied.
Her tone made him wonder if she would actually follow through on her instructions. She was Aerie’s friend, after all, he recalled, amused as he remembered Aerie’s own self-admitted failing when it came to disregarding instructions.
I miss you, Aerie.
Seeing no other alternative, Exton tucked her into his heart as the battle began. Enemy fire, sporadic and random, began to burst upward from the ground.
“Keep your flanking until oh-four-six,” Merra called. “Then split off to tackle the generators. Alice, hold your position center.”
“Roger,” Alice replied.
“Exton,” Merra called. “My forces are being held captive in the center, in the holding cells below the campus.”
A warning popped up on his screen. “We have Kazuz’s, rocket launchers, coming up from center right,” he said. “We’re close enough the rockets could do serious damage.”
“Ag man,” Kamalo grunted as he swiveled and shot upward. “Avoid them.”
“I’ll take them out,” Merra called. “Alice, provide flank cover to Ali and Greer.”
Exton hurried to take out one of the rocket launchers as they sped forward. He was surprised when they didn’t aim at his ship, but instead aligned their targeting sensors at Alice’s ship.
“Why are they after Alice?” Exton wondered, as he realized they were all aiming for her.
They must assume she’s the leader. As the shots began to fire, Exton used his own missiles to cover Alice. His aim was true, and his attack met theirs with fire in midair. As Exton ran through the explosion, he radioed Alice.
“Alice, you’re vulnerable,” he said. “See if you can go up higher.”
“Roger, Captain.” She dutifully shot up and began to hover a few more hundred yards up, keeping herself in the middle of the campus.
“Well, that’ll help with her positioning some,” he grumbled to himself, knowing it was only a matter of time before more powerful weapons were called in.
“We have a takeoff at the far airstrip,” Jared called.
“I’ll take care of it,” Exton offered.
“Watch your back, Cap,” Jared said. “You’ve got a shadow.”
He glanced at his rear receptor readings and saw he did have an enemy fighter tailing him. “I’ll keep it guessing.”
Exton hurried toward the airstrip on the south end of the campus, keeping low enough to tempt more of the Kazuz squad but high enough to anticipate their moves.
Another explosion rocked his airwaves as Greer let out a victory whoop. “Got the tower,” she called.
“Minimal damage,” Merra reported. “Swing around and hit it from the other side.”
“Roger.”
Exton saw the smoke tower rising from the far end of his visual. He saw the flames coming up from the base a second later. “Watch for the fire; some of those flames are pretty high,” he warned.
After another round of affirmative replies, he turned back to the airplane taking off.
It was an older plane, he noticed. With the comms jammed, it was stalled on the runway.
“Target locked,” he called. A missile in the middle of the airstrip would be enough, he decided. He didn’t need to hit the ship itself. “I’m going to stall its takeoff.”
He just pressed the button when Merra cried out. “No, wait, Exton!” she called.
His missile shot out and struck into the magnetic shield around the plane. Exton realized too late that it was a proton shield.
The missile exploded against the shield. The shock sent Exton’s plane whirling haphazardly. His wing clipped against the outer wall of the camp, sending him further spiraling out of control.
“Mayday, mayday,” Exton grumbled, leaning into the quick turns to try to stabilize his engines. He was relieved to see he had some control still. He would be able to land with minimal damage.
“Pull up, boet,” Kamalo called.
“I’ll be fine,” Exton replied, still processing his shock and responding to the damage to his ship. “Just keep on firing at those towers.”
“Shadow’s back,” Jared warned. “I’m coming to cover you. See if you can hold on.”
“Roger,” Exton replied.
Before he could process it, the fighter was bouncing onto the ground, grappling with his harness as the plane crashed into the settlement wall. He felt his knee bash painfully into his ship’s dashboard.
For the longest moment of his life, Exton went through a shock test to make sure he was okay. He then unbuckled himself and picked up his comm.
“What was that, Merra?” he yelled. “Why does that plane have a magnetic proton shield?”
There was a tense silence coming from the other end.
“Merra!” he repeated. “Answer me.”
While he was waiting, Alice managed to shoot the ship out of the sky with larger missiles; the explosion swept over the campus, sending an even more dense haboob through the region.
After that, everything stilled for a long moment while the fighting stalled.
Exton picked up his comm again. “Tell me what was in the plane, Merra. You must have some idea.”
“It was taking off with a weapon,” Merra said. “Chaya is not only a settlement. It’s a research lab. That weapon is one of its deadliest inventions.”
“What is it?” Exton asked. “A nuke? A hydrogen bomb?”
“No. It’s an ecobomb,” she said. “A team of our eco-scientists used genetic engineering to grow a strain of algae that can poison seawater.”
“No wonder Chaya had its water poisoned, then,” he snapped. “You were going to use it.”
“Of course,” Merra told him sharply. “We don’t apologize for overthrowing tyrants, Exton. We know when to lay down our arms. Osgood doesn’t. Who do you think ordered it in the first place? We defected, leaving behind all our coded research.”
Exton was about to reprimand her for keeping vital information from him when he was interrupted by Ali.
“Captain,” Ali called. “You have approaching guards. Watch yourself.”
“We’re still taking out the towers,” Greer said. “We’ll cover where we can.”
“Negative,” Exton said with a sigh. He was going to have a talk with Merra later, and he was going to try not to strangle her. “I’ll take care of them. Stay on course.”
He grabbed his laser gun and pulled himself out of the cockpit.
Using the ship for cover, Exton tried to get a better assessment of the damage done to his ship.
Before he could more closely examine his fighter’s crushed wing, he was grabbed by one of the guards.
Exton nearly dropped his weapon in surprise, but turned around to fight.
A few punches later, along with some serious pain in his knuckles, he was able to get the man into a chokehold.
“Stand down, or we’ll shoot!” another guard called.
Exton glanced over to see the guard had a nervous look on his face. It was clear he didn’t want to shoot with his superior in Exton’s grip.
“You’ll like
ly shoot anyway,” Exton told him. He moved forward suddenly, pulling his captive with him.
“Augh!” the other guard shrieked and fired.
Exton felt the body in his hands fall as the bullet struck him. Caught off balance, he barely managed to swing himself free before hitting the ground.
The other guard ran away as one of Exton’s friends came over and started firing.
From his position, Exton could see Kamalo’s dark face break into a grin as he passed by. He waved his thanks.
Exton glanced down at the guard who had tried to capture him. He was dead.
As a sigh escaped him, Exton leaned over and began to rifle through his pockets for anything that could help their cause. He paused when he felt the guard’s radio going off.
Didn’t Tyler jam their comms?
He picked it up to hear a woman calling for survivors.
“Come in. This is the Capital Command calling in. Emergency response, come in.”
“Capital Command?” Exton frowned. “Why is New Hope calling in this early? It’s hardly three o’clock in the morning there.”
Surely some other base would have answered.
“We have received your signal over the NET. Are there any survivors? Hello?”
Exton held the radio up and pressed the response button. “None worth saving,” he said. “My crew and I are taking over.”
“No.” The responder’s voice was hushed and quiet, and suddenly Exton felt bewildered. He had a terrible feeling inside of him, one that almost didn’t want it to be true—
“You’re a monster,” the voice snapped at him, angry and defiant to the last, in a tone which was all too familiar to him.
“Aerie?” Exton asked in disbelief.
♦9♦
“Aerie?”
Aerie felt her world turn upside down and inside out all at the same time at the sound of her name coming from the other side of the comm, half a world away.
Her breath sucked in sharply. I know that voice.
“Aerie, is that really you?” The voice spoke to her again, this time calling to her heart.
It was as irresistible as ever.
“Who ... who are you?” she whispered, unable to say anything else. She felt as though she’d been slapped, and by her own self, no less. One moment she was furious, and the next she was pained beyond feeling. How could she respond to someone like this, without knowing who he was?
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