Broken Sky

by L. A. Weatherly

  For a second Kay thought she might throw up. “Why, yes, I suppose it would be,” she said after a pause. “But I—”

  “Be real careful, Kay,” broke in Gunnison quietly. “Skinner’s been found Discordant for his incompetence in the Vancour matter. And as far as I’m concerned, liars are even more Discordant. Now, what was it you were about to tell me?”

  They’d left the city behind. Low green hills stretched before them, with the sky broad above. In a sickening mental flash, all Kay could see were severed heads atop a chain-link fence.

  You could be made a Discordant for not believing, too.

  “Well?” said Gunnison.

  Her throat was almost too tight for speech. “I…don’t know what you want me to say,” she whispered.

  “The truth. Now.”

  It felt as if nails were spiking into Kay’s skull. Did he really already know? Or was it a trick?

  Somehow the champagne glass didn’t shatter in her grasp. When she spoke her voice was barely audible: “I’ve never believed. I went into astrology for the money.”

  To her amazement, Gunnison threw back his head and laughed. “Now that is what I wanted to hear!” When she stared at him, he winked. “Remember when I read your cards, right here in this very auto? I chose one for myself, too. What did I tell you then?”

  “You said we’d work together very well,” Kay recalled in confusion.

  “The card was the Scholar.”

  The view of the hills slid past outside. She realized she had no words. According to the New Harmony Tarot, the Scholar was a person of great learning, but no faith.

  “I’ve known all along,” Gunnison said. “Didn’t matter. I needed someone who could look at all of this unemotionally – see patterns others might miss.” His small smile held triumph. “And it was all true, you know,” he added. “Every last bit, Kay. The harmonic power of the stars works through you whether you believe in it or not.”

  Kay opened her mouth and slowly closed it again. Somehow Vancour’s actions had really turned out to be the missing puzzle piece. What had been the odds of that?

  Was it the same with the other charts Kay had cast? She felt dazed as she realized that she’d never made anything up. She’d just seen things that others hadn’t. Even dowsing…she’d been so certain that she was the one in control, but what if she hadn’t been?

  Astrology, the Tarot, dowsing: these things couldn’t be true.

  Could they?

  “Well?” Gunnison grinned and nudged her. “Is my Chief Astrologer going to sit there staring at me all day, or are you going to say something?”

  Kay felt swept by emotions she didn’t understand. She swallowed, ridiculously close to tears. “You…you really don’t mind that I don’t believe?”

  “You will,” Gunnison said softly. He gripped her hand and released it; he settled back against his seat. “Yep, between you and Ford, I’ve got quite a team now.”

  “Ford?”

  “You know – Sandford. Who did you think I meant?”

  “I don’t know,” said Kay in confusion. “I thought you called Mr Cain ‘Sandy’.”

  The leader of the Central States guffawed. “I can’t picture Sandford Cain being a ‘Sandy’! Nah, Sandy’s one of my inside guys. Pretty smart, all the things he comes up with. You’ll meet him soon. He’s very loyal.”

  Gunnison touched Kay’s face. His warm hand lingered on her cheek.

  “Just like you,” he said.

  Chapter Forty-three

  We took off one after another – every pilot present on the Western Seaboard’s base, over a hundred of us. The desert town of Claremont was an hour away, across the Jacinto Mountains. I flew tensely, keeping with the pack, locking away my grief for Collie.

  Once we crested the mountains the land turned harsh, rocky. We saw the town long before we got to it: a thick black column of smoke was streaming up into the sky. A score of smaller fires burned as well, stark against the beige landscape.

  High overhead, three large, bloated planes approached, looking too heavy to fly. The red-and-black Harmony symbol gleamed from their tails. As I realized what they were, my hands went clammy.

  “Oh, you bastard,” I whispered to Gunnison. Bombers were supposed to be ancient history. A flock of new-looking Firedoves accompanied them, like kestrels protecting condors.

  The world tilted as I screamed up to meet a bomber. A pair of Doves came at me, filling my vision. My thumb thrust down on the firing button; I rolled away as bullets pelted a Dove’s hood. It went down, flames snapping at the air.

  Overhead, the bombers kept flying.

  As I wheeled back in position the smoke from the burning town swallowed my plane in black gulps. I caught glimpses of other planes through it: a chaos of wings and tails in all directions, attacking each other. Below, tanks rolled through the streets.

  I whipped in and out of the smoke, trying to shoot at the bombers – swooped low to get tanks before they got me. The smoke was dark, blinding. Half the time I’d spot a plane only to realize it was one of ours. My hands tightened in frustration. I banked and fired on an opposing Dove; it vanished into the gloom. I couldn’t tell what was happening, couldn’t tell if I’d brought anything else down.

  Meanwhile the bombers were finding their targets.

  An explosion thundered; I pulled up sharply as the courthouse erupted below. Shards of roof twisted in the air. The smoke whipped past, blanketing everything. I gritted my teeth and kept easing back on the stick to get above it. I was at less than a thousand feet.

  I don’t know which hit me, a Firedove or a tank. Suddenly a jolt slammed through the plane. In a flash of orange, a fireball appeared on my tail. No, my tail was gone – the crackling fireball was all that was left.

  My plane plummeted, screaming. I swore and shoved back the hood. Wind and smoke rushed past. My eyes streaming even behind my goggles, I bailed, half-falling from the cockpit.

  One banana…two banana… With a quick prayer, I tugged the ripcord.

  The chute opened.

  I gripped the cords as I floated down through the smoke. Doves still screamed above; I couldn’t see any more bombers. All was confusion – shouts – the roar of engines. A house went up, almost right under me; the blast blew me sideways. Pieces of plaster and wall whined past. Something big slammed against my chute, tangling in the white cloth.

  Shit! I grabbed for my reserve but it was too late; I fell the height of a house. I hit a pile of rubble and cried out at my bruised ribs.

  Alive, though. Nothing broken. Panting, I snatched a brick and scrambled up, expecting soldiers to be on me at any second. Nothing happened. I stood motionless, breathing hard. Finally I let the brick fall. I shrugged free of my chute and pushed the goggles from my face.

  The street was full of smoke. I could see soldiers in the distance; it looked as if they were forcing people out of town. I swallowed and looked around me. An auto sat leaning to one side, one of its tyres blown out. The house across the street had its front door open.

  Everything had the hyperreality of a dream. I walked slowly to the house. The front yard was well-tended. Grass clippings littered the sidewalk, as if someone had just mown that morning. I reached the door and hesitated…then gripped the doorjamb and peered inside.

  From my father’s stories I knew what I would see, even if it wasn’t really there: Louise’s mother, dead on the floor. And her brother, sitting headless against the wall.

  The house was empty. But I was right.

  I stared for several moments at the phantoms in my mind. The brother’s head was lying on its side. His eyes were bulging, as if he’d been screaming. The mother’s stomach looked torn – mangled – ugly.

  My eyes were dry. I felt hard inside, as if I might never cry again. Collie was dead and Gunnison had won.

  Another explosion rumbled. I turned and stared back at the street. My ankle was starting to hurt now – I’d jarred it when I fell. It didn’t matter. I went back ou
t and started walking.

  I kept to the side of the road, close to the houses, and headed away from the soldiers. I didn’t know where I was going. I just had to leave this place. Above, planes still whined – far fewer now. Had the others been shot down? Returned to base? The smoke made it impossible to fight in the air, and none of us were equipped to fight on the ground.

  Later, I knew how much I would care. Right now, it just felt as inevitable as nightfall: this had been over with before it even began.

  The town felt eerily empty. Limping, I turned a street corner and kept walking. Here, too, doors stood open. A burned-out auto was still on fire. An elementary school took up half the block. The Western Seaboard’s sunburst flag hung limply from its flagpole, smoke drifting past.

  My neck prickled as I became aware of a Firedove’s throaty drone. Suddenly a Western Seaboard plane burst from the smoke the next street over.

  It flew low for a few blocks, as if searching, then turned and headed up my street. I stared, wondering if one of my former teammates didn’t want “Wildcat” to get away.

  The plane roared past just above roof level. I couldn’t tell who the pilot peering out was.

  The Dove abruptly went high, vanishing into smoke. When it reappeared it was coming in for a landing on the school’s front lawn. I took a wary step back, ready to run.

  The Dove touched down. The hood slid open and a tall blond pilot scrambled out, yanking off his goggles. He started sprinting towards me and the whole world seemed to stop.

  “Collie,” I breathed.

  I pressed my hand hard against my eyes, struggling for control. “Please let this be true,” I murmured. “Please…”

  “Amity!” Collie shouted. It broke the spell. The next moment I was pounding towards him, not caring about my ankle.

  We reached each other and Collie swept me into his arms. He was warm, strong; he smelled of sweat and leather. For an endless moment our heartbeats crashed together. I clung to him, breathing him in – savouring his solid reality. I could feel the slick warmth of my tears against his skin. Maybe they were his tears, too.

  He pulled away a little, kissing my hair, my cheeks. “Amity…Amity…I found you…”

  “You’re really alive,” I gasped. I leaned back to look at him.

  He winced at my battered face. “Oh, Amity…what did they do to you?”

  “I’m fine!” I wiped my eyes. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I was doing both. “Collie, I…I thought you were dead.”

  He grasped my upper arms. “No – no! I was in the sickbay; I took off just after the rest of you.”

  “Sickbay?”

  “I got concussion during my last fight. I acted like it was worse than it was, so that I could lay low.” Collie’s tone was grim. He gazed around him at the deserted street – the burning auto. He slowly shook his head as the flames crackled. “I can’t believe this has happened.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  He swallowed. “During the battle I saw you bail, but then I lost sight of you. I’ve been searching every street… I was so scared that you’d been captured…”

  I ran my palm slowly up and down his arm; I thought I might never be able to stop touching him. “I was sure they’d killed you,” I said, my throat tight. “I thought they’d guess that you knew as much as I did.”

  “I pretended to play the game. After you escaped, Hendrix called me in and told me that the Tier One fight was being refought, and—” Collie broke off and rubbed his forehead. “I pretended to play the game,” he repeated, his voice husky.

  We both looked up sharply at the sound of a loudspeaker. It sounded as if a truck with a megaphone was moving through the streets.

  “Congratulations! This land has been reclaimed by the Central States. All new Central States citizens, report to a Harmony ambassador immediately for further instructions… You cannot stay here; this town contains vital mining interests and is being razed to help promote Harmony…”

  The loudspeaker grew closer. Collie pulled me to the side of a house. Two blocks away, the truck drove down the cross street, blaring its message. The loudspeaker faded.

  “Mining interests,” I echoed, staring out at the burning auto. The first war in almost a century. For mining interests. Finally I blew out a breath and glanced back at Collie. “What happened when you had to fight the Tier One?”

  He gave a tired shrug. “I told them I’d do what they wanted, and then I tried my damnedest to win. I lost that fight fair and square, but…if I’m honest, I can’t be completely sorry.” Very gently, Collie touched my bruised face; his thumb caressed the side of my mouth. “Because I knew you were still alive.” He tried to smile. “So I’m kind of glad they didn’t shoot me for going against them.”

  I stood motionless. I couldn’t be totally sorry that he’d lost, either…but in my mind I saw the trapdoor as it closed, slicing my brother’s face from view.

  “Amity? What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know what the fight was about? What Gunnison won?”

  Collie shook his head. I told him in short, terse words.

  He went white. “Hal could really be extradited and sent to a correction camp?”

  “If he’s caught.”

  Collie stood staring at me. “It’s my fault.”

  I touched his arm. “Collie, no. It’s Gunnison’s fault.”

  He twisted abruptly away and slammed his fist against the side of the house. It felt as if he’d punched me in the stomach. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and he clutched my hand.

  “Amity, I swear to you. I tried to win.”

  “I know,” I said against his back.

  He turned and we held each other. He pressed his face into my neck. “Rose and Hal are my family,” he murmured. He drew back, scanning me anxiously. “You’re sure he’s all right? He’s well-hidden?”

  “I hope so. Ma’s done her best.”

  Collie exhaled; our foreheads touched. I stroked his head, knowing exactly how he felt. In the distance, the megaphone was still bleating. I knew that we should leave but for a long moment I just stood there with Collie’s body pressed close against mine.

  It felt like the only home I’d ever need.

  “There’s something else,” I said at last. “Hendrix told me that – that Dad took bribes. He was the one who put Gunnison in power.”

  Collie drew back; he gaped at me.

  “I think it’s true,” I said. I briefly described the encounter with my father in the kitchen that night. My darling, if I could tell you that, I’d be king of the world.

  “And there were so many other things.” My voice came out small, like a little girl’s. “So many things when I was growing up that never quite made sense…”

  Collie ran a slow knuckle across his lip. “I think you’re right,” he admitted heavily. “Amity, I spoke to Tru that night too. I’d gone to get some water, and he was in the kitchen. He seemed so…despairing. And he said, ‘Are you planning to be a Peacefighter, Collie? Don’t do it, son. It’ll suck out your soul.’”

  I couldn’t hear the megaphone now. The silence was almost worse.

  “I never knew what he meant,” said Collie finally, sounding defeated.

  “And then we both became Peacefighters anyway,” I said.

  He grimaced. “Yeah. We both became Peacefighters anyway.”

  I swiped my eyes and took his hand. I squeezed his fingers. “We’d better go.”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere, for now.” I slid my other hand behind his warm neck and kissed him; our lips lingered together. “You were right all along,” I whispered fiercely against his mouth. “We should have escaped weeks ago.”

  I felt him give a small smile. “You’re admitting you were wrong? This must be a first.”

  “Come on. You can lecture me later.”

  We walked to where his plane waited in front of the school. Collie glanced at it, then back at me. “Think we’ll both fit?”r />
  “We’ll have to, I guess.” I took in the plane’s jaunty swirls, remembering my father’s hand on mine on the throttle, teaching me how to fly.

  Teaching me how to live.

  A doll lay on the ground with a boot-clad footprint on her dress. I hesitated, then bent down and picked it up. I turned it over in my hands. “Collie…you’d be a lot safer without me, you know.”

  Anger creased his features; he crouched beside me. “Do you think I give a damn about that? I’d die before I left you.” He rested his hand on my hair. His eyes were the pure green of leaves after rain.

  “I’d die,” he repeated softly.

  The truck with the megaphone was audible again. “…the town is being reclaimed for mining purposes and you will not be spared…”

  Collie kissed me and then straightened and swung himself up onto the wing. “Come on,” he urged, holding his hand out to me. “If you sit between my legs I think we can just about do it.”

  I nodded. I started to toss the doll aside…and then placed her tenderly on the ground. I smoothed her dress and stood up. We’d find a way to keep fighting Gunnison – we’d find a way to make the World for Peace worth believing in again.

  Louise was my namesake. I would not let her down.

  I took Collie’s hand and he pulled me up onto the wing. The sunlight caressed him from behind, turning his hair pure gold. My throat tightened. I was so glad he was still alive that I knew I’d never be able to express it in words.

  I stroked back a lock of his bright hair, feeling the silkiness of its golden strands.

  “Ready, Sandy?” I said.

  Collie had been about to climb into the cockpit; he stopped and stared at me. “W-what?”

  “Remember? When you were a freshman, everyone at school called you—”

  “Yeah,” he broke in flatly. “Yeah, I remember.” After a pause he gave me a crooked smile. “Sorry. I was just…thinking of someone else who calls me that.”

  I started to ask who, but then our heads jerked up; the truck was in the next street now. We clambered into the cockpit. It was tight, but with Collie’s arms around me and me working the stick, I knew we’d manage.