by L. Fergus
The local Political Bureau officers looked older than those back on Glacier Station. A dozen armored soldiers surrounded the four legionnaires. Beyond them, towers with large guns stood menacingly. As a show of good faith, Baxter and his group carried only pistols. The leader of the soldiers said something, but she couldn’t hear it over the rush of the shuttle engines.
Major Baxter signaled to cut the shuttle’s engines and for everyone to disembark.
“Should we?” Cinnamon asked Talon.
“We don’t have a choice.” Talon pointed outside.
Looking back, Cinnamon could see the legionnaires in the dirt, being detained. She looked at Talon for direction, moving her hands toward her pistols. She might not be Sarin and be able to take down a dozen soldiers in a split second, but she could still hit a few.
Talon shook her head. Instead, she led Cinnamon outside. Ignoring the soldiers’ mistreatment of the legionnaires, the Angels stopped next to Baxter and a Political Bureau general.
“The order to drop your weapons applied to both of you,” the general growled in a nasty twang of an accent.
Talon motioned to Cinnamon. She drew the two cheap imitation pistols she carried and unloaded the magazines and dropped them in the dirt.
Talon looked at the general with her big glowing eyes. The man looked inward slightly mesmerized. Her sleeves separated and a hand appeared. “My weapons, General, are much harder to separate.” The talons in her hands flexed menacingly, causing the general to recoil. “We’re here to speak to General Starr.”
“That’s a hard thing to do, missy, unless you converse with the spirit world.”
“Then I will take my guard and go.”
“Sorry, all legionnaires are to be detained and non-humans killed. Orders of the Emperor. Get on your knees, bird-girl.”
“You can’t kill us,” replied Talon. She and Cinnamon lifted off the ground. A pearly white bubble appeared around them. “You can’t even touch us.”
“Shoot them,” the general ordered.
The soldiers fired at the Angels, but the rounds bounced off the protective bubble. When the small arms failed, the larger caliber tower-mounted guns fired. The first explosion caused Cinnamon to jump. After a heavy barrage, the pair remained unharmed.
The Angels floated back down to the general.
“If you don’t come out, I’ll start killing them,” the general said pointing at the legionnaires.
“That would be a mistake,” Talon said with a growl. Her yellow eyes locked on his and the general’s face went limp. “Those legionnaires are going to be your way out, General. Tell me where General Starr is.”
“Out in the desert,” the general replied in a monotone voice.
“Then that’s where we’re going,” Talon said to Cinnamon. She looked back at the general and said, “You will keep my legionnaires alive until I return. Otherwise, you will fear the blackbird.”
“Deal,” the general grunted as his soldiers looked at each other confused. “Get them up and into a stockade,” he ordered. “You four, escort our ladies to the edge of town. We’ll see how long it takes before they come crawling back.”
The Angels floated in the protective bubble through Notree. Cinnamon didn’t find much to admire about the motley collection of dusty prefab and scrap metal structures built into the sides of the canyon walls. From the background she’d read, the town contained the shipping port for the refined ore processed out at the collection point. Beyond them were hundreds of small and medium-sized mines, supported by the ranching and farming on the other side of the moon. It seemed like an awful place to make a living.
Talon dropped the protective bubble once they’d left the town and guards behind. She stopped and scanned the horizon. “If I was a decorated legionnaire with skills in horseback and desert combat, where would I go?”
“If I didn’t have a horse, getting one would be my first thought,” said Cinnamon.
“Food and weapons also,” Talon added. “She had a command of thirty. They wouldn’t move together. The canyons and towers twist back and forth for a quarter of the planet. Leaving too many places to hide or get lost and die. Pull up the local topography.”
While taken aback by the direct order, Cinnamon complied. She pulled a panel from her belt. A holographic map appeared in front of them.
Talon studied the map, ordering all the relevant overlays she could think of. Cinnamon also put up some other information she had been researching, on the moon and its people.
“These three areas are where we’re going,” Talon announced pointing to the map.
“That doesn’t make sense at all,” replied Cinnamon.
“I have my reasons. Come on.”
“No,” Cinnamon said putting her hands on her hips.
“What?”
“You’re not the only one who can interpolate data. I’ve been doing it for years. You left out a large number of factors. You didn’t account for personal profiles, mining production rates, infrastructure reports, supply rates, mining locations, and about fifty other factors a person might think of when running for her life while looking for a horse, food, and weapons. I’ve got two possible routes that put her near the border of the desert and ranch lands. The ranch lands are easier to live in, but she can’t retake the moon from there. Her choice is to survive or retake her command. Right now, she’s thinking survival until she can arm enough people to fight back.”
Talon listened quietly. “Based on what proof?”
“All these data points here, here, and here,” Cinnamon pointed to the map.
“Yes, we’ll go this way.”
Cinnamon swatted the oversized hood. She was unhappy she didn’t find a head to hit and flew off, deciding another swat wasn’t worth it. Frustrated by Talon’s arrogance, she nearly hit a tall rock formation known as a tower. She stopped mid-air, darted straight up the cliff face, and exploded over the edge into the bright sunlight. She drifted to a stop that let her look out on the desert and grasslands beyond. The curvature of the moon was visible and added an alien feel to the landscape.
“Kristi?” Talon called in a quiet voice from behind her.
“You’re just like the rest,” Cinnamon snarled.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound mean or gruff. I…It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to work with someone I cared about.”
Cinnamon turned around. “You think that’s what I’m mad about?”
Talon floated closer to Cinnamon. “If not, please tell me. But, don’t keep me the fool.”
Cinnamon almost smiled at the other Angel’s attempt at humor. “You refused to answer me when I asked how you reached your conclusion. You doubted my conclusion then were going to take it. I’m no longer in the position of having my work taken from me. Sven is brilliant, but it was not him working all the late nights finding patterns to make operations more profitable. I found the trends, but did I get a ‘thank you’ or a ‘well done?’ No. I got ‘Put the reports in my box, Kristi. Can you refill the coffee pot?’ My name didn’t go on anything, he never said a word to anyone. His stupid reports would come in, and they’d be magically fixed. Everyone clamored at his genius, and he never said anything. I won’t be used again,” she finished with a yell.
“That would never be my intention. You had too many data points for me to follow and I like to think I excel at this type of work. I believe you when you say Starr could be there.”
“You do?” Cinnamon sniffed a bit and wiped her eye.
Talon took off her hood. “Why wouldn’t I? If she’s not there, we look somewhere else. We look until we find her. There’s always that percentage of unknown that we must be prepared for.” Cinnamon nodded and cuddled in Talon’s arms. “And when we get back to Rainbow Station we’ll talk with Jane, Kita, and Sven. We will get an apology. Kita is big on owning up to one's mistakes.”
“All I want is to be appreciated for what I do. I know it’s not much—”
“Slag, cupcake.
You’re amazing.”
“I am not. I’m just a secretary.”
“And the man would be nothing without you. I have a feeling I’ll be nothing without you.”
Cinnamon nuzzled against Talon. “How do you know how to say all the right things?”
“With you, it’s easy.”
Riding the thermals high into the sky, the Angels flew to the first possible area Starr could have setup camp. Being the stronger flyer, Talon directed Cinnamon from behind. From their great height, it was hard to see anything in the canyons. Talon whistled at Cinnamon to follow as she rolled over and dove lower to get a better look.
The area that interested them was a row of canyons each with a lazy river fed from underground springs. Two small ranches worked in the grasslands at the mouths of the canyons and deserts on the east and south made for an easy escape.
“Don’t go into any of the canyons at this speed,” said Talon as they descended. “You’re not ready for that type of flying.”
“What does that mean?”
“You haven’t learned greater control of your wings. We only partially fly like birds. There are gravitational wells in our feathers. It’s what allows us to float. You only control large surface areas of your wings. Other angels, like Kita and Jane, have control down to the individual well. They can perform some amazing aerial artistry.”
“Can you do that?” Cinnamon asked, regretting doing so. It was an insulting question.
“I can fly as well as a barn owl,” Talon said flatly.
Cinnamon wished she could see a barn owl in flight.
“Follow the row of canyon mouths. We’ll search for any sign of trails or human activity.”
“Wouldn’t they know well enough to hide that?”
“Even hiding something reveals it, if you know what to look for.”
“So, besides a chef, buccaneer, aid worker, and trainer what else have you been in your life?”
“I spent some time tracking unsavory characters across The Mass.”
By the dawn of the third day, they moved on to the second site. It was a network of dry canyons, with a wild river running through the northernmost canyon. The canyon system opened onto grassland but was well away from any settlements or other food sources. A rail line running between Notree and the large ranches marked the southern boundary. Cinnamon thought the rail line would be high on the refugee's list.
Invisible, they flew along the tracks, searching.
“There,” Talon pointed to a series of bent and dented ten-foot tall pieces of grass. “Something hit here and rolled to a stop. See how these are broken and they become less damaged as the objected came to a stop from the loss of energy?”
Cinnamon took a closer look, Talon was right. “So, what was it?”
“Something heavy from the indent in the dirt. Back to the air. We’ll see if we can spot the trail in the grass.”
“How can you track anything in this stuff? It’s taller than we are.”
“Something I learned from the last world is it’s easy to track someone through grass. It pushes apart like water, but doesn’t flow back together,” said Talon as they rose into the air. “See it?”
“Yeah, a whole maze of them. Eight?”
“Ten. Two are following. So, we know Starr is here and has, at least, nine men.”
They followed the trails to the edge of the grass where it met the sand and rock of the canyons.
“There and there, marks of horseshoes against rock.” Talon landed and inspected the marks on the stone. “Fresh, too. We’re not far behind. Look around. We still don’t know what canyon they went down.”
“Does it matter?” Cinnamon asked. “Three of these canyons cross or converge. We could pass them and not know it.”
“What do you suggest?”
Cinnamon pointed to the grass around them. “The horses were eating. We wait a bit, and then we each take a canyon and follow the poop.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” said Talon.
“Don’t patronize me,” Cinnamon laughed as she slugged Talon in the arm.
“We need to work on your form.”
“Oh, you think? I’m beginning to think this is how Jane felt when she first started dating Kita.”
“And look how that turned out. I can’t think of a bigger power couple, both figuratively and literally.”
“They’re not that mean and tough.”
Talon grunted. “You’re just like the teenager. You’ve got to find out the hard way.”
“Lucky for you, I won’t make it my mission to try and ruin your life.”
“That would put an end to our relationship.”
“I just don’t want to steal what’s rightfully Talli’s. Plus, with Kita around, you no longer train her.”
“Yes, but I didn’t want her trained to be an assassin. Killing is too often their first resort. There are other ways.”
“Hopefully, she’s learned enough from you to know better.” Cinnamon took Talon’s hand and guided her over into the shade of the grass. She pulled on Talon’s arm. Reluctantly the other Angel sat.
“Shouldn’t we go after them?” said Talon.
“Give the beasts some time to digest.” Cinnamon brushed Talon’s hood back and pulled the Angel into her lap.
“I…”
Cinnamon giggled. “You’re so used to being the strong protective one you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in someone else’s arms.”
“I don’t need to be taken care of,” Talon replied, the harshness fading from her voice at the end.
“Please. You’re just as much a girl as I am.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean you’re not a dumb man trying to hide his feelings from me. If I wanted that, I wouldn’t have agreed to be with you. I chose you because I knew you’d be different. I want to feel I take care of you as much as you take care of me, that I’m not just a damsel in distress.”
“I-I’d never think of you like that. You’re not. I’ve been— ”
Cinnamon bent down and kissed Talon. “I know, and I’m showing you your message is getting through. Now, why don’t you tell me a story.”
“A story? I don’t have any stories.”
“You survived how many years on that rock? You have to have some.”
“None that are interesting.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Ok. I guess I can tell you how I became a buccaneer.”
“That’s good.”
Cinnamon sat back and listened to how Talon worked her way up from deckhand to captain. She was so enthralled and didn’t realize how late it had become.
“Well, shall we find them?” she asked when Talon reached a stopping point.
Talon stood and helped Cinnamon up, and then fixed her hood. “Call me the second you’re in trouble. Don’t try and be a hero. Just—”
Cinnamon put a finger into Talon’s hood and touched her lips.
“I’ll be fine, hoots.”
“Hoots?”
“I didn’t get to chose cupcake,” Cinnamon replied taking off with a big smile.
“But, cupcake is so you,” Talon whispered.
Cinnamon followed the sparse trail of horse dung. Several times she’d come to dead ends and had to double back to the main canyon and pick up the trail again. Following a narrow side canyon diverted her to another main canyon. She spotted a pile of fresh looking dung camouflaged by dirt near the intersection.
“Talon, are you here?”
“Why are you whispering over the comm? It goes straight to my head,” teased Talon.
“I think I’m close. Where are you?”
Talon appeared above Cinnamon. “Here and it’s guarded.” She pointed to two sharpshooters in the canyon walls.
“How are we going to get in?”
“We just appear.”
Confused, Cinnamon followed her girlfriend. Riding a thermal, they climbed into the sky. Talon looked at the can
yon below.
“We’re in the right place,” Talon said to Cinnamon. “I can see the camp.”
“So, how do we just appear?” Cinnamon asked as the pair flew to the campsite.
Talon didn’t answer as she turned invisible. Cinnamon mimicked Talon, and they landed on the edge of camp in a deep shadow. The legionnaires busied themselves with their equipment and horses. The state of the camp was orderly and proper. To Cinnamon, this group was not discouraged or a rag-tag troop.
Talon turned visible as she stepped out from the shadow.
“Not another move, winged woman,” a man in a tan cowboy hat with a lieutenant insignia on it said. “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t end you now.” His hands were on his revolvers.
“I am a winged girl, thank you,” replied Talon. “Woman makes me sound stuffy and old. You are welcome to try and shoot me, but you will only waste good ammunition. I’m here to help you. Commandant Sarin has taken Glacier Station and is looking for all the trained help she can get.”
“Never heard of him,” said a big man with arms the size of Talon’s head.
“Her,” Cinnamon corrected making herself visible. The legionnaire didn’t flinch at her sudden appearance.
“I’m not aware of any girl commandants,” replied a woman spitting Talon’s own noun back at her. She wore a tan hat with general’s stars on the front, a flannel shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. A gun belt went around her waist and disappeared under her duster. “She must be an Earther.” She looked at Talon and frowned. Cinnamon raised an eyebrow at the frontier term. “I think we’ll take our chances here with the scorpions and snakes.”
“You’re making a mistake, General,” Talon said in a blunt rebuke.
The General’s men reached for their revolvers.
In a flash, Cinnamon drew her pistols. “Tsk, tsk, boys…Just because we’re girls doesn’t mean we’re not ladies,” she said with a dazzling smile. “Put those things away.”
The legionnaires exchanged glances, not sure what to do.
“Commandant Sarin is looking for a competent field commander,” said Talon. “You’re it in this region of space. She’s hoping you live up to your pedigree.”