by Alex Powell
Kaede nodded. She knew she had a problem with expressing her complaints to the person they concerned, but Sae was right this time. Maybe now they could find a way to reconcile themselves with their counterparts.
"Right," one of Mariko's friends said, scratching a hand through bright orange hair. "If we have to discuss this, I feel that we should be able to have a drink at the same time. No way I'm getting through this conversation without some help."
"That's true," Sae said, shrugging apologetically and looking at Kaede. "You destroyed the bar and now there's nowhere for us all to unwind."
"No problem," Mariko piped up from her perch on top of what looked like an in-suite bar. "I was bored, so I insisted on making them stock up on everything."
"Planning on drinking it all yourself, Ishigaki?" laughed her orange-headed friend.
Mariko ducked her head, "Well, you know I wanted you to come visit, so I had it done in the hopes you'd be allowed one day. And here you are."
"So I suppose it's all beer, is it?" Sae rolled her eyes. "Pilots."
"No actually." Kaede was surprised to see Mariko's face flush. "I thought that Kaede might like it if you visited, so I had them bring some of everything."
Kaede didn't know what to say to that. Mariko was a constant contradiction! One moment she was saying disparaging things to or about Kaede and the next she would do something to belie those same words. She watched in fascination as the orange-haired pilot manned the bar and started passing out drinks. Someone passed her a glass of wine and she took it automatically.
"This is a problem for all of us," Sae said as everyone settled again, this time with drink in hand. "For a long time now, there has been a rift between source and pilot. It would be in our best interest to reconcile, and yet, we remain cautious of each other."
"When did it start?" Mariko's orange-haired friend spoke up.
"Matsura's right," Mariko said. "I don't remember a time when we've not been at odds."
"It's as if it's a part of military culture. It seems like it's an ingrained habit," Kaede said into the ensuing silence as everyone thought on the oddity of their rift.
"Is it like this everywhere? Is it like this in Morwe?" Matsura asked, prickly brows drawn down.
"What's more, why hasn't High Command tried to intervene?" Mariko added, looking around the room for support. "You would think that it would be best for everyone to be on the same page. It would be a more efficient environment, not to mention an easier one to exist in."
"Okay, let's try to sort this out then," Sae spread her arms, gesturing, like a conductor leading an orchestra. "Why do pilots dislike sources so much?"
The rush of answers was sudden, and they were nothing that Kaede hadn't heard before. She heard all the stereotypes repeated, and they came easily to the pilots' mouths. They said that sources were cold, aloof, and that all that mattered to a source was money and benefits. Sources were manipulative and condescending, but the only thing that was valuable about them was what they were and not anything under their control. The list was seemingly endless.
"Stop!" Kaede's voice rang out more loudly than it ever had before. "What I want to know is, how many of you wanted to be pilots when you were choosing a career? Did you want to join the military? Come on, raise your hands."
Confused, the majority of the pilots did so, looking between each other questioningly.
Kaede turned back to her fellow sources and said, more quietly, "Now you. How many of you wanted to be sources?"
Two girls calmly raised their hands, seemingly not at all disturbed over the lack of response from their comrades.
"I wanted to be an artist," Sae volunteered the information.
"A scientist."
"A teacher."
"A lawyer."
Kaede held up her hands again. "All right. What age were you when you were first approached by the military to be recruited?"
"Sixteen," Sae answered, and everyone nodded in agreement.
"What did they offer you to finally make you agree to the terms?" Kaede continued the questioning.
"My grandfather needed medical treatment."
"My sister's education."
"My family was in debt."
"My father's rival company was about to take us over."
"How many of you are scared of what the consequences of leaving the military would be?" Kaede closed her eyes, remembering her own family, who were barely in contact with her.
"Ever since the conflict with Morwe, any high level source not with the military has had an impossible time finding a job anywhere else," Sae replied, her voice tired. "My aunt was a source, too. No one wanted to hire her, not when she was in the database as a known Level 3."
"Why don't you like pilots?"
Thus followed another barrage, this time filled with pilot stereotypes. Kaede looked across the floor to Mariko and Matsura and raised her eyebrows. The ball was in their court now. She was willing to concede that if the pilots had misconceptions about sources, the same could be true in reverse. Kaede waited anxiously, and hoped that somehow they could all reach an agreement.
*~*~*
Mari caught on to Kaede's tactic right away, watching with interest as she poked holes in all of the stereotypes aimed against her. She and Matsura shared a glance between them, and Matsura pointedly raised an eyebrow. She knew what he was saying. It was all right, though, Mari had no problem with admitting she was wrong, especially with the evidence right in her face.
She couldn't quite believe the sources were telling the truth. Surely the military that had treated her and her fellows so well wasn't abusing their comrades-in-arms? For all that she wasn't sure about sources, they did work together. They were on the same side.
Strange then, how it was almost as if they weren't.
When Kaede closed her end of the discussion, Mari took her place.
"Why did you want to be a pilot?" she asked her side of the room.
Matsura answered immediately, without a single thought. "I wanted to help people."
"How many of you would do this job for a lower salary?"
The majority of the pilots raised their glasses in the air, and those that clinked them in midair took a long swig of their drink.
"Now that you've heard the story," she continued. "How many of you think what is happening to the sources is unfair?"
The response was more cautious, but after many an appraising glance, the pilots raised their glasses again, more carefully, and without the addition of drinking.
"Do you want to help them?" Mari asked, looking around. "Because that's what we're all here for, isn't it? To help people. That includes sources."
Kaede, who had been listening intently, suddenly had the most horror-struck look on her face. "Something has just occurred to me," she said, her voice hoarse. "The military knows that you like to help people. Obviously they could guess your reaction to the revelation, and moved to prevent you from finding out."
"By creating an atmosphere in which sources and pilots were separated, even though we should be trying to bond with our partners," Mari continued, throat tightening. "It was invented, these fiercely divided cultures was purposefully created to keep us apart and at odds."
"That's a bit of a conspiracy theory, don't you think?" Matsura ventured hesitantly.
"They're right though," Sae interrupted. "There is no logical point to us being in such a harsh conflict, not when we can't work without each other. We should be trying to know one another, to trust each other, not whisper things about our comrades behind their backs."
"That's right," someone piped up from the back. "We really don't know each other at all. The pilot rotation keeps us from working with the same source. I hardly even know anyone's name."
The more Mari thought about it, the more it made a sickening sort of sense. Everything was set up to keep them separated. They had different living quarters, they ate in separate areas and their work breaks didn't coincide. The only common thing they had was
the bar, and they were so divided in the rest of their lives that the habit of keeping apart followed them there.
"I think that maybe we should start being very afraid," Matsura said.
No sooner were the words out of his mouth then there was a terrible roaring noise. A moment later, an explosion rocked the building, violently throwing Mari from her perch on the bar. She landed hard, the air punched from her lungs. Her ears rang, blocking out the sounds of everyone in the room. She could see everyone struggling to their feet around her, and the shapes of people's mouths moving.
"What?" she asked as Matsura gestured at her, but she couldn't hear her own voice.
She felt someone grab her arm and turned, feeling as if everything was going in slow motion.
"We're under attack!" was shouted in her ear, and the world abruptly snapped back into place. She heard more explosions, farther off in the distance, as well as shouting and banging from all around her as everyone tried to get their bearings.
There was another explosion nearby, and the lights flickered and went out. A moment later, the emergency lights came on, drenching everything in a red glow.
"It's Morwe, it has to be," Sae's voice carried, but Mari couldn't see her.
"Why is Morwe attacking us? We haven't provoked them recently."
Mari knew, with a dreaded certainty. She should have known that no matter how much High Command tried to keep it under wraps, Morwe would figure out that they had a Level 1 Source. Speaking of, where had Kaede gotten to? She turned, and realized it was Kaede who had grabbed hold of her arm.
"They know," Kaede said, and Mari nodded.
"Then it won't matter if we reveal ourselves."
Mari nodded again, and without another word, they ran.
Mari hadn't been expecting someone so tiny to be able to keep pace with her, especially with Mari's long legs, but Kaede sprinted alongside her without a problem. She didn't have time to wonder. They slammed through the door to the stairs and pounded down them, not risking the elevator with the explosions still going off around the base.
The night was alight with the flare of explosions, and the scream of rockets overhead was piercing. The ground shook beneath their feet, but neither of them broke stride. Several of the docking bays were aflame, and the maintenance crew fighting to put the fires out were backlit with vermillion smoke.
Mari's ear crackled, and a faint buzz turned to sharp static. Her teeth stung oddly, and she pressed her finger to the corner of her ear, trying to get her comm unit back online.
"Ishhhhh ..."
"Hello?" she snapped, still running. "Anyone there?"
"Ishigaki?"
"Yes, it's me."
"Where is your current location?"
"Nomura and I are on our way to docking bay," she said, shooting a glance at Kaede. Kaede nodded sharply, indicating she heard what was going on.
"ETA?"
"Two minutes."
"The lift is safe to use. It will be waiting for you on your arrival."
"Ishigaki out."
"Are you sure the lift will be safe?" Kaede asked as they rounded the last bend.
"There's no other way. Stairs would take too long. The battle would be over by the time we got down."
The metal shack was right ahead of them, backlit by flames and crimson light. They pounded towards it, and the ground continued to rumble. An nearby explosion threw them to the ground, and a concussive shockwave sent a spray of dirt and gravel over their prone forms. Kaede coughed next to her ear, and Mari struggled to her feet, pulling at Kaede's wrist.
Another row of explosions started up behind them, and Mari bolted, Kaede on her heels. The spouts of fire were getting closer; it was a race to see whether they would both go up in flame before they reached the sanctuary of the machine.
They were moving so fast that they almost slammed into the door. Mari yanked on the handle, pulling the door outward, but in the face of the oncoming explosions, no matter how quickly she moved, her brain screamed Too slow! Too slow!
Kaede was in first, hand pounding the lift button urgently. It was still moving too slowly, the lights coming on above the door to indicate the elevator coming towards them seemed excessively sedate. The doors slid open with a ping, and Mari shoved them both through, pressing frantically at the close-door button, only thinking to pick a level as an afterthought.
The door slid shut just as the world outside dissolved into fire and intense heat, a blast of hot air and embers managing to sneak in the narrow gap right before the doors sealed.
"We made it," Mari panted, hands on her knees and head hanging low.
"Barely," gasped Kaede beside her.
They were silent for a moment, just breathing in the cool air of the ventilated elevator and waiting to arrive at the right level.
The moment of rest didn't last long, and soon they were racing down the empty, white, curved halls to the docking bay. Kaede jammed her hand down on the door button and leapt forward as it whirred open. Just as she began to hurtle out into empty air, Mari threw herself forward and wrapped a desperate arm around Kaede's waist, suddenly glad she was so small. She threw her weight backwards and they tumbled to the ground in a heap.
The space in front of the loading platform was only empty darkness. Kaede panted, her wheezing high and panicked in Mari's ear. Mari looked out into the surrounding black void, and there was nothing out there to see, nothing to move towards.
*~*~*
Kaede huddled against the warm and solid form at her back and tried not to remember the feeling of nothingness beneath her feet. She'd come a hair's breadth from plunging downward, with nothing to break her fall but the metal floor far below. Mari didn't say a word, her arms tightening around Kaede's body and pulling her closer.
"Where is Hakusan?" Mari whispered, the flimsy words withering away to be lost in the dark void.
"Wherever we left it," Kaede replied, finding her body relaxing on its own into Mari's warmth surrounding her. She had a musky scent, and Kaede let it fill her lungs and her head with an almost drowsy contentment.
"Where we left it?" Mari asked, and Kaede could feel the vibration of the words against her back.
"No one can move Hakusan but us. We left it against the wall of the cavern somewhere. We have to go and find it," Kaede explained, looking out into the dark, searching for a black, looming shape.
Reluctantly, Kaede pulled up and away, finding that her legs trembled beneath her. Her heart had calmed since her latest scare, but it jumped one last time as she helped pull Mari to her feet. Their hands fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, and Kaede lingered a moment too long in separating them.
They called the lift down again, and Kaede found herself standing too close, almost plastered against Mari's side, where previously they had stood with at least two feet between them. What kind of reaction to danger was this? The urge to be closer, to be protected, to protect ... She shouldn't be dwelling on this when there were battles to be fought.
The black seemed even more consuming when standing within it, the closed doors at their backs offering no comfort in the deep gloom.
"We can't just walk out there with no light," Mari murmured at her side.
"We don't have a light," Kaede said, looking around and seeing nothing that could help them. The controls for the lights were probably somewhere above them, on a higher level.
They didn't have time for this. There was a battle going on above their heads, and they had to go help their comrades as soon as they could.
"We do."
"What?" Kaede asked distractedly as she considered walking sightlessly across the empty space between them and their war machine.
"We do," Mari repeated. "Have a light, that is."
In the ensuing pause, it took Kaede only a moment to understand what Mari was trying to suggest.
"Don't you remember what happened last time?" she hissed, pulling away slightly and feeling the difference in air temperature almost immediately. The dark was co
ld and slightly damp, sticking to her skin and covering it in a cool layer of slickness. It made her hair stand on end.
"No one else is here to mess it up. You can control it without interference," Mari insisted.
It was probably true, and simply lighting up the space around them would take very little energy from her. She briefly considered refusing, although she could think of no good reason not to try. She batted the feeling away and reached down to undo her yukata.
She quickly shed her outer layer of clothing, and the feeling of being surrounded by coldness increased, making her shiver. Kaede handed her yukata to Mari, and let the energy rise to the surface of her skin.
The glow of blue energy rose up around her, and she could barely see anything past the light as it buzzed over her body. It was calm, calmer than it had ever been.
"That's good, let's go," Mari said, and Kaede followed her voice.
"Keep talking," she said dreamily, mind in a light trance. "I still can't see anything."
"What should I say?"
"Anything you want."
Kaede heard Mari start to talk, something about training days as a beginner pilot. She didn't really hear the words, just let them wash over her. Mari lead the way, and Kaede let her voice guide her through the veil of darkness and the haze of light surrounding her. It was a journey that defied her concept of time and space. She didn't know how far she'd walked or for how long.
"We're here," Mari finally said. "It looks like they built some scaffolding up around it and have supports in place against the wall."
"What is it made of?"
"Metal and wood. Here, there's a ramp right in front of you. Watch your step."
Good, she probably wouldn't accidentally electrify the walkway then. She carefully stepped forward and felt the edge of the ramp, keeping to the middle and away from the metal framework. She could see a bit better now, but Mari kept up her steady monologue and occasional instructions.