Taileh didn’t move. Didn’t twitch.
“Were you working with the Han the entire time?”
“Not the Han.”
Neira shook her shoulders, taking a step forward. “Then who? How long have you been at this?”
Taileh raised her eyebrows, her lips pursed. “Since before I was born. Neira, please understand. I did not mean to hurt you.”
Neira took another advancing step on her ex-lover. “You hurt my people, Taileh. How could you do so and not expect to hurt me?”
“I had no choice.”
“Why? Was your father in jeopardy? Your sister? Did the Han have something over you?”
Taileh shook her head, holding out her hand, palm up. “Please, just listen.”
“What would drive you do such a thing?”
Taileh bit her lips. “The programmer.”
Neira jerked back. “What did you say?”
“I know you know,” she said just loud enough to be heard over the moaning of the branches. “The programmer does not allow much room for argument.”
“What do you mean?”
Taileh took a step forward. “Just listen. The programmer has something in each of us and with one thought, he can kill any of us.”
Neira shook her head, standing her ground.
Taking another step forward, Taileh reached for Neira’s arm. Her hand hovered there, the expression on her face torn. “My family.”
“Are under my protection, no matter your betrayal.”
Taileh shook her head and dropped her hand. “No. If I fail in my mission, they die and you cannot protect them from him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My brother.”
Neira frowned. He’d died suddenly and without explanation in the middle of the spring feast day celebration. Days later, Taileh had stolen the maps and fled. “Your programmer claimed responsibility for that?”
Taileh nodded. “I had no choice. He threatened my father, my sister.” She took Neira’s hand. “You.”
She jerked her away and took a step back. “No.
Taileh followed, but didn’t try to touch again. “Yes.”
“Why did you bring the Han here? Why would you risk the slaughter of my people?”
“The pleron!” Taileh shouted, meeting Neira’s fury head on. “We need the pleron.”
Neira stared at her.
“It was always,” Taileh whispered, “about the pleron. The tunnel mappings, our quest. They need the pleron to rebuild.”
“I know about the Skyborne.” Neira inhaled sharply as if to retrieve her spoken words.”
“What?”
Neira swallowed. “I know about the Skyborne and why they need the pleron. I know they’re trying to rebuild their hull, that our air poisons them.”
Taileh closed her eyes. “There’s a problem in the code.”
Neira narrowed her eyes. Did the Great Families’ programmer know about the rogue programmer? “What does that mean?”
“I think you know.”
There were a lot of things Neira didn’t understand about the nanites and the programmer and the “code” that allowed them to tap in and control people with Marks. But she had a terrible feeling that whatever this “problem” was in the code, it had to do with the rogue programmer, the one who had given them a fighting chance.
Taileh’s shoulders sagged. “It means that if the Han can’t get to the pleron, if the programmer can’t remake his nanites, he’s going to kill us all.”
KIWIDINOK WASN’T AN ISLAND. AT least not like I’d ever seen or experienced. While it was true that I’d spent a great deal of time on this landmass, I hadn’t spent a lot of time exploring it, nor getting to know the real impact of its size.
Spreading our resources out as I did had seemed like good idea at the time, but as we outraced the storm to Lake Chatan, a realization hit me.
The power and the might of the El’Asim Fleet was spread so thin that, even in good weather and clear skies, no help would come for hours. If any of my other ships went down or were in need of assistance, I couldn’t rush to their aid.
And neither could any of my other ships.
What had I been thinking?
I’d been thinking that the Han was attacking on multiple fronts. To counter him in any other fashion would be suicide. Too many lives would be lost.
I’d also been thinking that if Neira thought it was the best idea, then I had to trust her. We were supporting her. We weren’t the front of this war.
We sped along doing two hundred and ninety kilometres per hour. I was still used to reading my speed in knots, but that was in the much slower Sammas. I couldn’t even comprehend how many knots we were flying. A lot. We’d already raced ahead of the storm. That was both a good thing and a bad one. It meant we could engage in battle once we got there.
But it also meant we knew what was coming. That storm was gigantic. A lot of power. A lot of speed. It was one, giant circling mass.
And it was headed inland.
“Admiral,” Wa-sna-win called. “Communication with Lake Chatan, sir.”
I wanted to walk to the communication console and speak directly with Lake Chatan, but restrained myself. Wa-sna-win had proven herself to be extremely competent, and my wanting to take over only showed how out of sorts I was. “Have they had any further sightings of the Han’s men?”
“Yes, sir. They are going around Lake Chatan and are headed north.”
“North?”
“Do we know where they are?” Jamilah asked.
Wa-sna-win shook her head, her hand on her headphone. “No, sir. The last report was that they were headed north.”
I couldn’t understand why Wa-sna-win insisted on calling Jamilah “sir.” Jamilah was a woman. However, there others who were starting to call her “sir” as well.
“We need to scout,” I said to Jamilah. “We need a target.”
Jamilah nodded from her location two steps in front of me.
“No. We need their target. If they aren’t attacking Lake Chatan, then where are they going?”
Jamilah raised an eyebrow. “Kaarle, altimeter?”
“Nine hundred ninety-eight, sir,” he said from his station. “And dropping. The storm is coming in.”
“Lash, take us to flight level forty-five.”
We’d been working and training to use Joshua’s more standard terms of flight, trajectory, pressure, and altitude. It helped to interface with his equipment.
But it still sounded foreign to me. I couldn’t recall what flight level forty-five even was or how high we could be. The only thing I remembered was that the flight level had something to do with the altimeter, and that the radar had something to do with figuring it out.
As great as that all sounded, I still preferred the old ways. However, the old ways wouldn’t have gotten us to Lake Chatan within three hours of dropping Neira off at the southern tip of Kiwidinok. It would have taken us at least a day, if not longer.
I stared through the glass beneath my feet as we leveled out. The wings fluttered, sending a mild vibration through my legs. We turned and the large storm came into view, it’s shadow claiming more land. “How soon do we have before it hits?”
Kaarl looked up, one headphone over his ear, the other behind it. “An hour? Maybe?”
I didn’t want to be on the ground when that thing hit, and I didn’t want to be in the air in it. Above it? Yes. “Let’s make this quick, then.”
Lake Chatan was the larger blue body of water below us. From this elevation, it was hard to make out the river that fed it or the river it spilled into. I could follow the opening in the trees, but that was about it. It looked less like a river and more like a path from up here.
“They could be hiding in the trees,” Jamilah said, her gaze following mine.
They were heading north. What was north?
Pleron City.
A wave of relief worked through me like a slithering snake. The innocent people o
f Lake Chatan might be safe.
Who was located in Pleron City and did I care enough to engage the Han in conflict, endangering the lives of my people?
Yes. The Han was part of the Skyborne’s plan to destroy our world. He was after the pleron, for them. Yes. I cared enough.
“Pleron City.”
Jamilah turned to me. “If they are inside the city, we lose all tactical advantage.”
I turned, imagining what resided in the heart of my ship. My menagerie. “We only lose the advantage we’re most comfortable with.”
Jamilah looked over her shoulder to see what I meant, her expression folded in question.
I raised an eyebrow.
She unfurled her arms and turned all the way around, her mouth open in surprise.
I didn’t know if she was following what I was thinking, but I was trying to form the plan in my own head before vocalizing it.
Pleron City was a series of mining tunnels. They were steep, some were small. There was one large hole that went from the top of the mountain’s mouth to the bottom, which I had never actually been. The tribal Librarium had once been kept there. It was safe in the stormy seasons, and protected in the winter.
Tight space. Even if the Han’s forces were there in great numbers, we could still use the confined space to our tactical advantage. We still had the Umira Nuru, all of the people on board my ship, and everything I had in the menagerie, which included a lethara I’d bonded to, more falcons than I knew what to do with, and innumerable creatures that were necessary to sustain my ship, but who were poisonous to humans.
Jamilah tipped her head to the side and nodded slowly. “That might work, sir. That might work.”
Rose handed her mentor and leader the shot glass.
Bennen sat on the other side of a make-shift table. “Better?”
Rose shook her head. “Will it ever get better?”
He shrugged. “Nah. Not really.” He poured her another shot of whiskey and handed the glass back to her.
She let it sit on the table for a long moment. “Do you think it’s wise?”
“Absolutely. Yes. I do.”
The Najmah shook and the sound of an explosion reverberated through the bay.
Bennen glared at the sloshed whiskey. “Are you going to drink that?”
Rose had never been much of a drinker. She was already feeling the first shot. She shook her head.
One of Bennen’s pilots threw down his cards. “It looks like it’s time for us to play.”
Rose shook her head. “That storm is too strong. Going out in that will get us killed faster than a bullet.”
The Najmah rose, Rose’s gut tugged in the motion.
“Trust Commander Najat,” Bennen said.
Rose tipped her head as another concussion rocked bay. She trusted Synn. She didn’t know Najat, at least not as well as Bennen did.
Bennen rolled his blue eyes. “I don’t understand how you can trust someone as insane as the El’Asim, and not trust someone as calm, smart, calculating—did I mention thinking?—as Najat.”
Rose rolled her eyes and winced. Synn hadn’t gone out of his way to make a good impression with anyone in the past few months, but he’d saved her life. More than once.
An explosion sounded almost directly overhead.
Rose leapt to her feet, along with most of her pilots. Ethel was the only one who remained sitting. She didn’t even look up from the book she was reading. She simply reached up, grabbed Bettie’s hand and tugged the other woman back to the crate beside her.
Bennen grinned. “We’re returning fire. Trust me. Najat is capable of taking care of herself almost without our help.”
Rose regained her seat on the barrel. “Shouldn’t we be getting ready to launch?”
Bennen knocked back the shot of whiskey. “Launch. Like you’re a bloody torpedo.”
Her face folding in a confused frown, she looked up at him as he stood.
“Torpedo. New type of missile Commander Najat has for when we’re underwater.” He waved her off and signaled with his other hand. “You’ll stay. We’ll go.”
As much as Rose was grateful for the offer, it made her feel like a slug. Stay behind in battle? No. She couldn’t stomach the thought. She wasn’t a coward, and neither was her crew.
“We know how to work around the commander’s missiles. Just trust me.” Bennen smiled, taking Rose’s shoulders and pushing her down to the barrel again. “If we need you, we’ll call you.”
Rose sat. He was her commanding officer.
Ethel laid her open book on her chest. “I can’t say my heart’s broken over not going into battle right now.”
Sigmund and Ethel had been good friends.
Rose ran her rough nails along her knee. “I have a feeling we’ll be out there soon enough.”
Ethel picked up her book again and crossed her ankle over her knee. “Me too.”
The ground shook. The trees bent toward them for one long moment, then shot back up, quivering.
Neira peeked over the protection of the fallen trees. “What was that.”
Taileh grabbed Neira’s wrist. “That is Shankara launching their bombs at us.”
Turning her face to the sky, Neira shook her head. “There are no planes.”
“They don’t need their planes,” Taileh said through gritted teeth as she tugged on Neira’s hand, dragging her deeper into the protection of the woods, further away from the blast. “They can shoot them from the letharan city.”
“The coast is miles away.”
“You’re catching on.”
Neira stopped. “My people are back there.”
“The enemy is, too, Nei. We need to get you to safety.”
“No.” Neira drew her sword from her sheath and ran toward the valley her people were in. She leapt over the fallen trees, skirting several others. She dodged a prickly noarbush, her heart racing in her chest.
She saw the trees before her folding backward.
A dagger of wood shot past her.
The blast hit her mid-leap, shoving her backwards as if she was nothing more than a small child. Her back connected with a tree.
When she opened her eyes, she lay on the ground. The world was silent and so still.
A burning leaf fluttered to the ground beside her.
Something blazed not far away.
Fire.
She tried to push herself to her feet.
Hands grabbed her by the armpit and hauled her to her feet. Taileh’s lips moved as she helped Neira out of the blast area, but she couldn’t hear anything. She staggered, her leg folding. With a shiver that wracked her body, she crumpled to the wet, soggy earth.
Aboard the Basilah, Ryo stared at the radar, watching for anything to aim at. He itched to fight, to claw at the world, to maim.
To kill.
He didn’t care who. He cared less about what. He just needed to bloody his blade.
He cursed Synn for saving him. Cursed him more for making him want to feel life again. He wanted to curl up in the pain, in the hurt, the anger, the twisting need for revenge.
He wanted to love again.
He’d been so close to escaping Ino City, so close to leaving his mother behind. He’d nearly found freedom. Real freedom. The night Synn’s fleet had been blown out of the air had been the first night of the rest of his life. Synn’s fleet would have become Ryo’s home. A real home.
He would have had the chance to get closer to a sister he’d always admired and never knew.
But that had been shattered that brutal day. And then the pain-searing months that followed had stripped away the remainder of his shredded soul.
But earlier that day, Synn had grasped his head, had bestowed upon him the Family greeting, had claimed him in a way he had never been claimed before.
And the other commanders, people he didn’t know, had claimed him as well.
Life. The soul-fire of the living infused him.
In one night, all his dreams had
been extinguished.
And in one moment, they’d been returned. Ten-fold.
The new El’Asim fleet was his home. The Basilah had been designed for him. The crew had volunteered, had asked to live upon his ship.
He was home.
Home, for whatever strange reason he struggled to fathom, included Neira’s people. Synn called them the Vash, thinking her tribes were like his own. They weren’t. Ryo knew the different tribes. He’d spent time wandering, speaking to the people, learning their customs. He knew what Neira had accomplished. She’d been able to take almost an entire continent of roaming people’s and bring them under one guiding hand.
He respected that woman so much.
Growing up in Ino City, he had a hard time understanding how a “home” could be built out of respect and mutual ground instead of fortified under strict regulations.
But this was his home. This ship. This land. His people. This people.
And he wasn’t going to allow another tyrant to take away this dream. He wasn’t going to allow the Han to shatter his hope the way his mother had snuffed his chances at a real family.
“Commander!” Yawara shouted from the communications panel.
Ryo looked up from the radar. “What is it?”
“Neira’s forces are being bombarded, sir.”
Ryo peered through the glass under his feet as if he could see through the bulk of the storm. “Reports said she had that area secured. The Paha caves were being successfully evacuated.”
“She did, and they were, sir.”
Rage fed Ryo’s soul as he balled his hand into a fist. “Then, how?”
“Shankara, sir.” Yawara looked up, his almond-shaped eyes round with worry.
Another dark ally of his soul-infected mother.
“Shankara City is here, off the west coast of the peninsula, and is launching bombs at them.”
“Bombs?” Not again. The vile woman would not take away anymore from him. First, his sister, Zara. Then, Oki. He wasn’t a fool. He knew she was dying. And now, this? No. No!
“They’re long-range,” Yawara continued. “Unlike anything we’ve ever seen, sir. They have a wide destruction pattern.
Ryo glanced at his pilot, the contaminated fire of his Ino Mark burning in his belly. “Suzu, take us down so I can see.”
Whispers of the Skyborne (Devices of War Book 3) Page 25