The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Hell Above the Skies

by Ava D. Dohn

  *

  The faded canvas softly flapped in the hot, arid breeze. Even though the dust storm made breathing difficult, it had shielded Alynnou from the blazing sun. It was late winter according to the calendar but, in this land, a person needed to rethink winter’s definition. Aside from the occasional blizzard that could dump several feet of ice-hard snow and drop temperatures to minus forty degrees on the Fahrenheit scale, this high desert paid little attention to seasons. Winter daytime often reached ninety, while the night might plunge to minus ten or so.

  With the storm passed, the sun was again out in its blazing glory. Alynnou eyed the thermometer, its needle creeping past ninety-five. “Three more hours until sunset...” She moaned. “I sometimes wonder how much that child can take.” She gently touched her face. The injury from Treston’s striking blow with the truncheon still ached on cold nights, and was tender to the touch. The nasty scar that started just below her right eye and ended near the lower jaw was only beginning to fade.

  Cadets were not permitted the use of a rejuvenation machine for non life-threatening injuries received during basic training. Command had felt it would help them be better prepared for real battlefield conditions where such medical equipment didn’t exist. After graduating officer training school, Alynnou hadn’t bothered getting additional medical treatment. She found it somewhat peculiar to feel that the scar had become a kind of badge of honor to her, something to be missed when it had faded away.

  Movement in the distance caught the lieutenant’s attention. She shaded her eyes with her hand and squinted in that direction. Soon she could identify two people, one being assisted by the other. Alynnou grabbed an emergency survival kit from the back of the army half-deuce and hurried off to help. ‘No telling,’ she thought, ‘if Ishtar is hurt enough to get help from Treston, the child’s probably half dead.’

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. That’s very kind of you.”

  Treston’s courteous response shocked Alynnou. Was he injured or suffering heat stroke? She looked him over carefully. But other than the normal cuts and bruises and caked-on filth a person acquired from a six-day tramp in the wilderness, he appeared fine.

  “You’re welcome… Sir” Alynnou finally managed. She then turned her full attention to Ishtar.

  The girl was gulping the water given her...that is, the water making it into her mouth. The rest was splashing off her chin and down her shirt, sending muddy rivers dripping to the ground and onto the girl’s boots.

  ‘She looks far from dead to me.’ Alynnou thought. ‘Maybe she’s fooling the colonel into believing she’s hurt.’ She suspiciously eyed Ishtar, studying her for any sign of mischief. If the girl were faking injury, Treston would surely have noticed it. No, Ishtar appeared sincere and in relatively good health. The lieutenant then focused her attention on the colonel.

  When Treston noticed he was being watched, he innocently offered, “Cadet Ishtar slipped and fell as we came up that distant ravine, twisting the ankle she sprained last week. I gave her a hand, not wanting the injury to delay her further training.”

  Now Alynnou was really suspicious, but not of Ishtar. In her six weeks working for the colonel, she had not been on any long training missions like this last one. Most of the time, the lieutenant had served as a ‘camel jockey’ as Treston called it, driving the half-deuce out to some remote location and waiting for him and Ishtar to arrive. More often than not, it would be Treston arriving first, with the girl struggling in some time later. Never had he helped Ishtar, even when the child had twisted her ankle the first time.

  ‘It’s not my business, anyway.’ Alynnou thought. But there was some peculiarly strange tightness growing in her chest, one never felt before. She said nothing, but deep inside there was this tiny voice that wanted to ask the colonel what was going on. She looked back at Ishtar and felt as though she was seeing a fellow competitor seeking the same prize. What was wrong? In all the ages she had lived, Alynnou had never experienced these feelings.

  Alynnou hesitated and then asked, “Would you like me to assist Cadet Ishtar?”

  Treston smiled and thanked Alynnou, shaking his head. “That is very kind of you, but we’re fine. It would be a great help if you’d carry her backpack, though.”

  The lieutenant nodded and reached for the pack the girl had dropped when given the water. Something wasn’t right inside her head. Only moments before, she had been concerned for Ishtar’s welfare, and now she had this growing desire to push the girl away and make her walk back alone. And that constriction in her chest? It had only intensified.

  Confused by her increasing feelings of anger and frustration, Alynnou grabbed the pack, spun around, and made tracks for the half-deuce. “I’ll get some food going.” She shouted over her shoulder, not taking her eyes off a distant vehicle.

  “Thank you!” Treston politely shouted back.

  Alynnou was busy making a tent roof from the loose canvas covering the back of a vehicle, its inventor, Jebbson Garlock, called a ‘half-deuce’, or ‘one tonne truck’, capable of transporting twenty-one hundred pounds of cargo along with a driver and passenger. There was hot tea brewing on a small, portable stove, cold biscuits, cheese and sweet jam, and a stick or two of dried meat waiting for hungry appetites. The lieutenant had even set out a tiny basin filled with water, a pat of soft soap resting next to it.

  Treston was expressing his deep appreciation for Alynnou’s extra efforts at providing them refreshment when everyone’s attention was drawn to an approaching cloud of dust moving along the winding trail leading back toward the base. Treston recommended that Ishtar grab some food, a suggestion that did not need repeating. He stepped into the road and waited for the approaching machine. A vehicle similar to theirs but smaller, called a ‘quarter-deuce’, slowly rolled to a stop, its brakes squealing in complaint.

  Treston waved his arm, grinning, and called out, “Good afternoon, General. I didn’t expect to see you ‘til tomorrow’s drill. Hope you have good news to bring us. Too hot a day to travel all the way out here for bad.”

  The general returned Treston’s salutation with some small talk then extricated himself from the cramped confines of the vehicle’s passenger seat. While patting his dusty shirt with his hand, the general complained, “That Garlock fellow should have been forced to ride in one of these contraptions awhile. Might have made ‘em a little more comfortable.” He looked into the sky and shook his head. “Hope I get the chance to tell him that, myself, one day. Hope he’s alright.”

  Treston ushered the general over to the others. Ishtar had nearly choked on a biscuit when she recognized who arrived. She was standing rigidly at attention, Alynnou standing a few feet away doing the same.

  Lieutenant Alynnou offered a smart salute. “General PalaHar! A surprise and pleasure, Sir!”

  General PalaHar returned a polite salute and then told everyone to relax and eat the meal, saying he could wait a few minutes to deliver his information. After accepting some hot tea from Alynnou, he walked away motioning Treston to follow. For some time, the two talked quietly while Treston munched on his cheese and biscuit and the General sipped his tea. Eventually the men returned to the others.

  Treston began, “Listen up now. The general has important news.” With that, he took hold of Ishtar’s arm and pulled her up close to PalaHar. “Cadet Ishtar of Ephesus, trained in all the fields of combat and leadership that good officers must be skilled in.”

  PalaHar stared down at the girl and asked Treston, “Are you sure this is really Cadet Ishtar? She looks more like a half-starved rug rat to me.”

  Ishtar winced.

  Treston grinned, answering, “No, Sir. Not half-starved...toughened-in rug rat... and not a very pretty one, either.”

  Ishtar’s face flushed red. She was too embarrassed to be angry, too scared to reply, too dumbfounded to cry.

  General PalaHar cocked his head to the left. “You really think she�
��ll do? Looks kind of puny and weak to me.”

  Without thinking, Ishtar blurted out, “Not weak, Sir! Not weak at all! Puny maybe…and half-starved.” She glanced at Treston.

  The general laughed. “Spunky, too!”

  His face changed expression. “Child… everyone…war has come to us all. As I speak, our fellow comrades are storming MueoPoros.” He waited a moment for the news to sink in. “The hour has arrived for us to play the part we have been prepared for.” He looked at Ishtar, sadness in his eyes. “My daughter, the time has passed for your training. I trust the good colonel has taught you well… Never the less, it will have to suffice.”

  PalaHar pulled from his pocket pieces of embroidered cloth and handed them to the girl. “Congratulations, Captain Ishtar, on your graduation and promotion.”

  Ishtar nearly fainted from shock. “I… I… I’m not ready to…”

  “You’re as ready as you’ll ever be, Captain.” PalaHar snapped. “Orders from High Command...” He then addressed everyone. “The cruiser Brosh is pulling out from Oros in forty-eight hours, bound for MueoPoros. You’re all to be on it.” He took Ishtar’s trembling hand. “The colonel and lieutenant will be with you.”

  Tears were running down the girl’s face. She whimpered, “I’m a child… a child! What can I do? What good am I?”

  PalaHar reassured her. “You, my child, are the lightning that strikes on a clear day. Our mother did not deliver you to us at this dark hour by accident. You are our hope and our breath, the child destined to bring Legion to ruin.”

  Ishtar began to weep. “I am a child...a frightened, little child...”

  “What you are and what you may think you are, are two entirely different things.” The general gently gripped the girl’s shoulder. “We see you as you will be, and yet you are already what we see. Lowenah has already prepared you…readied you for future deeds. Long ago she prophesied your destiny. The power to accomplish that destiny is already inside you.” He pointed at her heart. “We are here with you to help that power wake. It will. It has.”

  The general kissed the girl on the forehead, then thanking the others for their attention, dismissed himself and climbed into the little truck. The driver started the noisy motor. Soon there was only a tiny dust cloud to be seen in the distance.

  No one spoke a word. Treston helped Alynnou gather things up and stow them in the truck. Ishtar sat cross-legged in the sand, numbly fingering the colored braids. When finished, Alynnou assisted the girl into the cab between her and Treston, started the motor, turned onto the road, and slowly drove away.