Flying the Storm

by Arnot, C. S.

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Aye. I can’t go back. Not now. Seen too much.”

  “Well, I’m sure we can find space for you if you want to stay. You’ve been a real help.”

  “...No, I was just... I was just doing what was needed. That’s all.”

  “What we needed, yes. You went against the Gilgamesh, though. Why did you do that?”

  “It... felt... like the right thing to do. No friends of mine on that thing.”

  “None at all?”

  “None. Don’t think I ever proper fit there.”

  Aiden’s eyes opened. He was in a bright, very bright white room. Hammit and Fredrick were sitting near him. Hammit was fidgeting uncomfortably, and Fredrick was sitting forwards with his elbows on his knees. Fredrick spotted him first.

  “Aiden!” he said. “Welcome back.”

  Aiden nodded groggily. He was lying on a bed - a hospital bed - with a blanket up to his chest. He didn’t try to move. Something told him he shouldn’t.

  “We’ve just been discussing what to do next. It seems Hammit here is easy pleased, so long as we let him fly with us.”

  Aiden nodded again.

  “I just want to fly,” said Hammit then.

  “I agree with the engineer,” tried Aiden, testing his voice. It was hoarse. It sounded like he hadn’t spoken in a long time. “Flying is good.”

  “Well, you’ll be here for a few days yet,” said Fredrick. “You were in a bad way. That drone really gave you a thumping.”

  He started to remember then. The battle. The little drones with the blue tracers. The Gilgamesh in flames, and the Enkidu running.

  “Where are we?”

  “Glasgow. We found a surgery that would take you.”

  Glasgow. He was still in Scotland. Funny, it didn’t feel too bad. Until he tried to move. Then it was all aches and deep throbbing pains in his left leg, chest and upper arm. It almost knocked the wind out of him.

  “Jesus,” he muttered. “Did I get thrown through a prop?”

  “Looked a bit like it. You lost a lot of blood.”

  “That would explain the passing out.” He carefully laid himself back down onto the pillows, but no matter which way he tried it just wasn’t as comfortable as before. He’d noticed the drip in his arm now, too, which started to itch.

  “Since you’re awake now, it might be a good idea to show you this.” Fredrick picked from the bedside table what looked like a pair of chopsticks glued together. He carefully pulled them apart, and between them stretched a fine transparent membrane, like a thin plastic scroll. Then the membrane went rigid, and he tapped at it a couple of times before passing the membrane monitor to Aiden. He took it with his apparently uninjured right arm.

  Suddenly an image of a ‘play’ arrow loaded up, and Aiden tapped it.

  “Aiden and Fredrick of the Iolaire,” said Teimuraz’ voice, “this message is at once an apology, an explanation and... an invitation.”

  Aiden looked over at Fredrick. His friend nodded at the monitor: listen.

  “First, I apologise for what you have undoubtedly been through. Solomon will have betrayed you and stolen the Enkidu for his own purposes, which, I am sorry to say, I saw coming. When he first approached me, I admit I was taken in by his professions of justice, and hatred for the Gilgamesh: the warship had been a thorn in my side for almost twenty years, and when Solomon offered a solution I jumped at it. However, I performed a little research of my own and slowly came to the realisation that he perhaps was not all he said he was... In fact, he was a great deal more.

  “He is no engineer; he is Commodore Solomon Archer of the North Atlantic Union Navy. Before the Armistice, he had been promised the command of a new aerial warship. The war ended days before the NAUS Enkidu was scheduled for launch. Solomon was left without his command, and he felt cheated. He dedicated the next twenty years of his life to tracking down the Enkidu.

  “It was at Solomon’s request that I found a crewed aircraft to take him to the Enkidu. I chose you because I knew you would have no love for the Gilgamesh and would, given your natures, jump at the opportunity for justice. Initially I floundered, since I could see no easy way to prevent Solomon from taking possession of the Enkidu. I doubted that you would be able to convince him to take one of you on-board the warship... And so you see, when I first met Vika, I saw our chance.

  “I spoke to Vika in private. She told me of her father’s plans, and I was convinced by them. Patriotism had little to do with it, though we Georgians have always been friends of Armenia. Rather, I know from experience that peace and unity are good for the kind of business I run... and that a unified Caucasus, given its location, would be a mercantile powerhouse. Vika and Tovmas would have their peace and I would have my prosperity. Vika would take the Enkidu and bring it back to us.

  “As for the matter of the Gilgamesh... I leaked the Enkidu’s possible location to it, several days before you arrived here in Tbilisi. Perhaps this was foolish, since it endangered your lives. In my defence, I had not met Vika at this point, so my best plan was to try and force Solomon to engage the Gilgamesh.

  “I am pleased to tell you that, so far, all has gone according to the new plan and she is coming to me. I invite you to do the same. You have truly proven your worth, and if you choose to help us, you will be rewarded richly. There will be plenty of work for you here.”

  The recording rustled slightly. “I hope to see you soon. Teimuraz out.”

  Aiden sat in silence for a moment, his mind reeling. The whole damned thing had been a set-up. Vika’s betrayal, the Gilgamesh, everything. He had almost been killed for it. They had nearly unleashed a second Gilgamesh on the world, and everything had hung by a thread. So much more could have gone wrong.

  He was furious. Giddy that he had survived, but furious. And he didn’t think he liked the thought of the Enkidu being used to ‘unify’ the Caucasus, either. Not one bit.

  “So,” said Fredrick, “What do you think?”

  Aiden turned and considered his friend. His expression didn’t lean either way. Not that it mattered.

  “We should go to Tbilisi just so I can punch him in his big, fat face.”

  Fredrick let out a roar of laughter and slapped his knees.

  “Not Denmark then?” he said.

  Aiden smiled at that. Denmark did sound good. Fredrick’s father was an excellent cook.

  “So we are decided,” Fredrick continued. “We are going to Tbilisi to beat Teimuraz.”

  Aiden’s smile widened. He had a warm, fuzzy feeling that may or may not have been the morphine. Everything would be fine. They had work. They had the Iolaire. She would keep flying. That was all that mattered.

  The three of them sat in contented quiet for a few moments. Aiden wondered if Hammit had a clue what they had been talking about. Aiden himself was having trouble digesting Teimuraz’ message. A question boiled up out of the confusion.

  “Will she take it to him?” he asked then. “To Teimuraz?”

  Fredrick shook his head slowly, his smile disappearing. “If he really believes she will do as he says, he is as foolish as he is fat.” He breathed deeply through his nose and got to his feet. “That woman is loyal only to her father,” he said quietly.

  There was still pain there, clearly. Fredrick picked the monitor from Aiden’s lap and folded it away. As he leaned close, Aiden saw creases in his friend’s face: lines that hadn’t been there before. A toll had been taken on everybody.

  “That airport Teimuraz loves so much?” Fredrick continued, a mirthless smile touching his lips. “I don’t think it’s going to stay his for very long. I think Armenia is about to become much, much bigger.”

  That made sense. The warship would give Tovmas the power he needed and then some. Aiden tried to piece out the consequences of that, but the soft haze of the pain drugs were making it difficult to think past the present. He leaned back onto the pillows and let his eyes close for a moment.

/>   There was a shout outside the room, and running footsteps along the corridor. Another shout. Someone talking quickly, urgently. Aiden opened his eyes.

  Fredrick went to the door then, slipping out. Hammit was on his feet, his fists balled by his sides.

  A few seconds passed and Fredrick returned.

  “The window,” he said, pointing. He reached it and tugged the blind open.

  Aiden turned his head to look. The white daylight was painfully bright for a moment, but his eyes slowly adjusted to it and the glow faded. The window looked out over the city; northwards, he reckoned by the line of hills in the distance. It was in the north that something looked wrong. A cloud darker than the rest, maybe, above the hills. He squinted and let his eyes focus.

  Fear, so sudden and strong that it caught the breath in his throat.

  High above the hills, wreathed in smoke, the Gilgamesh was coming.

  ###

  Thank you for taking the time to read my book! If you enjoyed it and would like to see more in the future, would you please take a moment to leave me a review?

  Thanks!

  C. S. Arnot

  About the author:

  Born and raised on the West coast of Scotland, Callum now studies Electrical and Mechanical Engineering at the University of Strathclyde, going on to begin a PhD in the Advanced Space Concepts Laboratory after the summer of 2014. He’s been scribbling stories from a young age, but had never really attempted a novel until Flying the Storm. People ask him how he’s had the time to write while studying for a Master’s degree… and he’s not sure how to answer that. It is quite possible he should have spent more time studying…

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