Then there was the real, vastly more stealthy convoy that would leave Yelahanka by the main gate and head east to catch the Thanisandra Main Road, where it would turn south and eventually reach Hindustan Airport, the older facility now, according to Taj, largely devoted to flight test work.
From that point, the plans were vague and kept changing. Rachel and Pav, working with Taj and Tea and this Chang person, had made tentative plans for a flight to Shanghai, or possibly Buenos Aires—the destination kept changing, though the goal always remained the same: get as close to the Free Nation U.S. as possible, as soon as possible.
The giant flaw in any plan was Sanjay’s state: miraculously, he had not only survived but been stabilized. While he faced a long recovery and remained technically critical, he was expected to survive.
Chang had released a statement that exaggerated Sanjay’s condition, to justify the move to New Delhi. In fact, Sanjay would be staying right there at the Yelahanka Air Base hospital for several more days.
When it was safe, he would be flown to wherever the rest of the crew had come to rest.
Xavier didn’t much like the idea of leaving the engineer behind, but he liked the idea of all of them in New Delhi a lot less. He wanted to be in the U.S., “Free Nation” or not, to see for himself what it was like living under Reiver domination . . . and determine what, if anything, could be done about it.
And, more to the point, what was this big double-secret crazy Reiver project—what would it do? How could it be stopped?
The Adventure crew needed some kind of base of operations . . . some set of rooms with sufficient power and secrecy and nearby transportation where Xavier (lacking Sanjay’s skills) would get the 3-D printers up and running.
The garage was barely large enough to park two ambulances, though tall enough to allow the Prasad Stores truck access. Xavier had been inside the truck two hours ago, when Adventure’s cargo had been transferred aboard.
Now, the lift still lowered, the vehicle’s rear stood open, revealing that five chairs—each with a seat belt and chest restraint—had been added. “Are we going over rough road?” Rachel said.
“Probably,” Tea said. “We’re supposed to stay on highways, but even those might be potholed. And we won’t have visual cues, so sudden moves will surprise us.”
In addition to seats, there was a chest for food and drink.
“Where do we go to the bathroom?” Rachel said.
“We won’t be inside long enough to worry about it,” Pav said.
“Easy for you to say.” But she gave him a hug and was the first to climb aboard.
Xavier extended a hand to Yahvi, which was silly, since the girl was taller and far more lithe than he would ever be. But she accepted it.
And sneezed. Xavier’s sympathy for the girl, who had never experienced a cold and was obviously deep in the worst of it, was counterbalanced by his worry that she had infected him. He hadn’t had a cold during his time on Keanu; his immune system was surely as compromised as Yahvi’s.
And it wasn’t as though he was going to be able to wash his hands right this minute. He had to settle for wiping them vigorously on his trousers.
Tea Nowinski climbed up next, though the maneuver was obviously a bit of a strain. She made a face and rubbed her thighs. “I suppose I could have simply waited for the lift.”
Then Xavier followed. Standing up inside the truck, he felt cramped already. Four of the chairs were standard human size, but the fifth was a kind of lounger for Zeds. It took up three times as much room.
“I hope Pav was telling the truth about not being in here for long.”
Two airmen helped steady Zeds on the lift. It groaned for a moment and brought the Sentry, in his full suit, which still showed bloodstains from the attack, level with the rest of them. The alien ducked and clambered his way to the big chair.
“It feels as though we ought to take a moment,” Tea said.
“Like when you flew to ISS?” Rachel said. She turned to Yahvi, who was about to ask what her mother was talking about. “My father told me, and I know Tea lived through it. When they left Star City for the launch site, astronauts and cosmonauts were supposed to stop and sit for a moment, just to reflect and hope for a successful voyage.”
“It’s an old Russian tradition,” Tea said.
“But we’re in India,” Xavier said. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to be rolling.
“How do we perform this ritual?” By speaking up, Zeds effectively made the decision for everyone.
Following Tea and Rachel’s directions, Yahvi and Xavier sat on the floor, backs of their thighs touching their feet, hands on top of their thighs. Even Zeds, with a grace and speed that shocked Xavier, made it to the floor in a similar posture.
“Do we say anything?” Yahvi asked, reasonably.
“Just sit for a moment, eyes closed,” Tea said.
Xavier counted to five, all the while encouraging the universe and his mother’s Jesus to look fondly on their mission.
At that moment Rachel’s cell phone beeped and a text from Pav appeared: IGNITION.
They could hear the garage door open. Before they were settled in their chairs, the truck pulled out.
The ride was even less fun than Xavier imagined it, and far longer than the promised hour and a half.
It took all of them several minutes to get safely into chairs and braced after their Russian travel blessing. Tea, in fact, bumped her head. “Okay, this truck is not for me.”
They weren’t all secured until the truck stopped for several minutes. MAIN GATE, Pav texted.
Then they felt the truck picking up speed, turning first one way, then the other.
They seemed to be on open road. Xavier tried to imagine Chang and Pav in the lead van, guiding them through the predawn darkness, but the only image that came to mind was of a grim Singh hunched over the wheel.
Within moments, the ride smoothed out . . . they were going somewhere, and no bullets were stitching the side of the vehicle. If Xavier listened, he could hear rain on the roof, but that was rather soothing.
Rachel was intent on the phone, occasionally typing messages and presumably reading news of waypoints passed.
Between sniffling and rubbing her red eyes, Yahvi was playing with the music player Remilla had given her. Zeds was inscrutable. Tea had closed her eyes.
Which seemed like a great idea to Xavier.
Then Rachel set the phone aside and nudged him. “Which one is it?”
It took him a moment to realize that she was talking about the transmitter. “Far left, halfway up.” The parcel wasn’t specially marked, but Xavier had memorized its number and made sure to place it where it could be reached swiftly. “I understand that’s a priority.”
“I’d hoped you and Sanjay would have it assembled by now. I really hate leaving Adventure without a working proteus.”
“Give me a secure location and two hours.”
“Soon, I hope.” She turned away, glancing at Yahvi and Tea. Her profile made her seem quite young—Rachel wasn’t any taller than when Xavier had first met her and had broadened only slightly, thanks to motherhood. When not bone-tired, she moved swiftly.
Xavier had to admit that, at various times, he was attracted to her . . . but that was true of many women he knew among the HBs. He had not acted on many of these impulses. Not that there were many or even any opportunities. The human habitat on Keanu was not where you went searching for privacy. You could probably find a place for a tryst, but you had to work at it.
Xavier knew that his inherent laziness was far stronger than his sexual drive. And that his looks and reputation probably did him no good, either.
Strange, though, to be sitting in the back of a truck in a secret convoy on Earth—Earth!—and remembering a momentary crush on Rachel.
Must be the kind of crazy shit that makes us
human.
After two-plus hours and God knew how many texts—which Rachel faithfully reported—the truck lurched through a final set of contortions. “Pav says we’re almost there.”
“No problems?” Tea said, stretching. She had fallen completely asleep; so had Yahvi. Xavier had dozed. His only activity during waking moments had been to explore the supply chest for water and what turned out to be a sad collection of energy bars and fruit.
“None they’re telling me,” Rachel said.
“What is our next destination?” Zeds said. He had been silent for the entire trip, but Xavier could have kissed the big Sentry now for saying what Xavier could not.
Because these last three days had been nowhere near what Xavier expected when he imagined Adventure’s return to Earth—even after the harsh realities of the mission crystallized in his mind. His mission tasks aside—the work he planned to do with Sanjay—he had expected . . . well, maybe a parade. Meetings with scientists, perhaps. Or the head of the United Nations, if that organization still existed.
How about walks in the sunshine? Encounters with other people? Decent meals! Shopping!
And sightseeing! Even before being scooped up and hauled away to Keanu, he had never imagined he would be in India. Through a wildly unlikely set of circumstances, he was here, now! So couldn’t he see this Taj Mahal?
He had talked to Harley Drake about what happened after spaceflights, and while the ex-astronaut had talked a lot about debriefs and physical adjustments (apparently six months in microgravity took a toll on your muscles, balance, and ability to judge movements) as well as emotional letdowns . . . he had emphasized one welcome, inescapable fact: You went back to your old life.
Xavier wanted to go back to his old life, what was left of it, even for a few days. Being locked up was not to his liking.
It wasn’t even smart. Setting aside his own personal desires, he had a mission to perform . . . and it wasn’t even started.
“I really wish I knew,” Rachel said. “I’m sorry I’m not more of a leader on this. You all knew there was going to be a great deal of . . . improv once we landed.”
“Sanjay’s injury has cost us time—”
“And flexibility,” Tea said.
“Yes, I think we can all agree on that.” It was interesting to watch the two of them together. Rachel was twenty-five years younger, yet never deferred to Tea, treating her more like a daughter. And Tea, for that matter, seemed happy to fill that role . . . her facial expressions and tone were closer to Yahvi’s than to Rachel’s. “Pav and Mr. Chang have been working with Taj and the government—decisions were being made while we drove here.”
“Then why don’t we know what they were?” Yahvi said. It was as if she and Tea were now double-teaming Rachel. Hell, given what Zeds asked, all Xavier had to do was speak his mind and Rachel would be surrounded.
She was clearly feeling it. “Why don’t we just let them open the doors and tell us?”
Which happened in the next ten minutes. Pav was waiting as the door rolled up, revealing that the truck had pulled into a vacant hangar whose door was wide open. The reason they were inside the hangar was obvious: It was still raining outside, with the sky gray, heavy, and low. The top of the nearest building was obscured by fog. The air was the coolest Xavier had felt yet on Earth.
He shivered and thought, Great: I’m going to be sick for certain.
The van was parked a few meters away, half-blocking the view from outside. “Everyone okay?”
“Peachy,” Rachel said, not waiting for the lift, but jumping down for a hurried embrace. Xavier thought that Pav looked tired and jumpy; maybe Chang was a terrible driver.
“God, this smells better,” Tea said. Xavier had to agree; it wasn’t just having four humans and a Sentry in an environment suit crammed into close quarters with limited air circulation . . . the interior of the truck had its own collection of stale food smells. (Which, given that this company supplied Yelahanka, made Xavier wonder about some of the food he had eaten since arrival.)
Rachel, Tea, and Yahvi headed for the nearest ladies’ room. Xavier was okay for the moment, which allowed him to take in their new and hopefully temporary surroundings as Pav and Singh extracted Zeds from the truck.
Xavier’s first impression of Bengaluru was that it looked like Yelahanka, though slightly newer. The runways ran the same direction—due east/west.
But where the buildings and hangars at Yelahanka were almost uniform faded brown, Bengaluru’s were brighter—white and bright green—at least in intent. Everything looked faded and worn on a morning like this.
And the base didn’t seem to be particularly active. Of course, it was early. Maybe there were noise restrictions.
But, also, maybe there just weren’t that many planes flying. If the Reivers could get close enough to the Indian coast to fire a missile at Adventure, what other weapons might they be fielding?
He already knew the answer: If they could pay a team of assassins to attack them at Yelahanka, there was really nowhere the crew was safe, not for long.
Even as this thought formed in Xavier’s mind, he heard the distant sound of an approaching jet somewhere above the clouds. He had no idea if a plane could land in the rain, or in cloud cover this low.
For a moment he wondered if it was a bomber intending to strike them. But Edgar Chang only looked away from Zeds and Pav long enough to register the same sound. He didn’t look particularly alarmed and, in fact, said something to Pav that Xavier couldn’t hear.
Zeds began walking freely, performing his own unique Sentry-style stretches (Xavier could only imagine how cramped the giant alien must have felt!). As Rachel, Yahvi, and Tea returned, Xavier caught up with his Sentry friend.
“How are you feeling?”
“Impatient.”
Xavier loved the way Zeds always said exactly what he felt. He had none of the social governors that even the least-inhibited human beings possessed.
“What were Chang and Pav talking about?”
“The aircraft is one they hoped to see.”
Now, that was interesting—and welcome news. But from where? And more importantly, to where?
Xavier returned to the truck, where Edgar Chang and Chief Warrant Officer Singh were both pacing, phones to their ears. To Xavier’s alarm, he noted that as Singh talked, his other hand was removing a revolver from a holster in the small of his back . . . as if checking on its presence and heft.
Meanwhile, Rachel Stewart-Radhakrishnan seemed to be having an argument with her husband as their daughter and Tea looked on, distressed.
“You’ve never hidden things from me before—at least I don’t think you have—”
“I have not,” Pav said.
“So why are you starting now?”
“Because I don’t know what happened for certain!”
Now Tea spoke: “What about Taj?”
“No word.”
Xavier glanced at Yahvi; her eyes and nose were red from her cold, but now it looked as though she’d been crying, too. “Can we catch a brother up?” he said. “And maybe Zeds would like to know.” The Sentry had followed him to the gathering.
Rachel gestured for Pav to speak. “The other convoy,” he said, clearly struggling for the words. He sighed. “There was an incident.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Pav!” Rachel said, as snappish as Xavier had ever heard her. “They’re dead, isn’t that what you and Chang said? All killed on the road to the other airport?”
Xavier felt sick, though not, when he thought about it a second time, terribly surprised. He waited for Pav to add detail. “The report—Chang got it, and so did your driver—is that a highway bridge failed. Both limos went into the road below and turned over. One of the trucks was damaged, too. No word on the ambulance. The entire party is reported to be dead.” Pav quickly pivoted to face Te
a. “And so far we don’t have definitive information on who was in the convoy at the time. I know my father said he was going along—”
“To help with the ruse, yes,” Tea said bitterly.
“Taj is not among the dead,” Chang said. He had just gotten off the phone. “There are four fatalities, including Warrant Officer Pandya—” Here Chang nodded toward Warrant Officer Singh. Xavier was surprised at how that news struck him; he’d assumed Pandya was the spy, not a supportive member of the team.
Not someone who would risk his life for them—and lose it.
“Two others were injured and evacuated. Taj is not among them, that’s confirmed.”
“Do we know where he is?” Pav said.
Chang shook his phone. “Still working on that.”
“We should never have left Sanjay,” Rachel said. “He’s unprotected at Yelahanka.”
“I believe the reason Taj stayed behind was to find a moment to remove Sanjay,” Chang said. “That was the plan.”
“Which one?” Yahvi spoke for the first time. “I can’t keep these plans straight.”
“Plan 3C,” Xavier said. “Not that I want to forget about Sanjay, but here’s a stumper: What about us? We got in the truck this morning with this as our destination. Well, folks, here we are . . . standing in a cold empty hangar in the rain.
“Are we flying to China? Are we catching a boat to Japan? What’s the deal?”
“Just wait,” Pav said.
Out on the runway, a small jet broke through the low clouds, swiftly touching down and rolling out. Xavier would not have been able to identify aircraft types in 2019 beyond big and not-so-big, so he was useless with this one.
But it was not big . . . a corporate or executive jet.
“Is this our ride?” Yahvi said.
Pav put his arm around her. Xavier noticed that he exchanged a look with Chang before answering: “Yes.”
“Who are they?” Rachel said.
“Friends,” Edgar Chang said.
“I asked my husband,” Rachel said, more gently than Xavier expected.
Heaven’s Fall Page 17