Breaking Sky

by Cori McCarthy

  Chase pulled back to reality against her will, forcing herself to assess the people who were deciding the fate of the Streakers. The government board was made up of four women and three men—all wearing tight, appraising expressions. Lance Howard Tourn seemed to hover over them like a smoke cloud as they conferred with the leader of the group, a man with coffee-colored skin named Mr. Archmen.

  “He’s so important, he’s plural,” Pippin whispered after the introductions. Chase hid her smile in the tightness of her mouth.

  Tourn didn’t seem to see Chase or anyone else as he began to lecture, keeping his eyes on the Streakers as though they were his real audience. His growl of a voice wasn’t as deep in person as it had been over the conference room video line, but his choice of words was familiarly cold. He spoke of the importance of rebuilding the Air Force and of each and every piece of airpower. He said that the U.S. was a nation founded on these sorts of days. The sorts of days that changed everything.

  Tourn concluded by bringing up the afternoon when the U.S. lost five hundred and seventy-nine fighter jets in the skies over Taiwan. She wondered if he’d get choked up while remembering all his friends who had died. He didn’t. But he added that this day’s success would make up for that tragedy.

  “So no pressure, guys,” Tristan whispered down the line of cadets. Chase slipped on a smirk while Romeo whispered something in French. Sylph hissed a hush sound that made Kale look over all of them with a parental eye.

  Mr. Archmen stepped forward next. He examined the line of cadets long enough for Chase to notice that he took an extra few seconds on her, searching her face for the Tourn family resemblance, no doubt. He turned away disappointed, and Chase was happy for the first time in her life that she was practically a carbon copy of Janice.

  Archmen presented interactive tablets to the representatives, Kale, and Tourn, including a syllabus of the trials split into three subjects: speed, maneuverability, and combat. Chase tried to focus on the rundown, but Archmen was purposefully vague. What kind of combat? Did they expect her to dogfight with Tristan or Sylph? Fire simulated weapons at each other?

  No.

  Their weapons weren’t fake. Kale had told them only two days ago they would be flying hot. Whatever playfulness she’d gleaned from being with Tristan and joking with Pippin was beginning to leave her. Why wouldn’t they tell the teams what the trials entailed?

  Chase listened through the rising pound of her anxiety, her eyes dragging back to the spot where her father watched her. His clipped hair was thinning and his eyes were a fading color, but the scar along her arm still burned.

  “All right. Let’s get to it,” Kale said, interrupting the last of Archmen’s words. The Streaker teams saluted, and Kale took Chase’s elbow and whispered, “Aim high. Fly, fight, win.”

  She nodded, a tight feeling in her throat that was some amalgamation of pride and fear. The representatives followed Kale to the tower to watch the takeoffs and monitor the onboard cameras. The Streaker teams looked at one another, and Romeo’s wristwatch alarm sounded.

  Sylph grabbed him, ripped off the watch, and stomped it into a pile of parts on the floor. When she looked up, a few blond hairs had broken loose from her braid. “I feel better.”

  They shook hands and wished one another good luck. Chase saved Tristan’s hand for last, but he didn’t take it. He pinched her ear instead.

  She couldn’t stop herself from giving him a hug. “Fly fast,” she whispered into his neck.

  “I’ll try to beat you. Always works.” He sounded confident, but his arms tightened around her. The fact that this might be their last flight as wingmen made it impossible to let go.

  The teams separated to perform preflight checks.

  Sylph hung back. “Be careful, Nyx.”

  “You be careful,” Chase replied. “I can fly these challenges with my eyes closed.”

  “I was talking about that boy.” Sylph arched an eyebrow. “I’d keep both eyes open with him. Wouldn’t want to end up a mere mortal after all your faithful years of myth building, Goddess of Chaos.”

  “That’s Daughter of Chaos, Sylph.”

  Sylph glanced behind Chase. “Isn’t that the truth.”

  It wasn’t until Sylph had stepped around to the other side of Pegasus that Chase heard the throat-clearing grunt. Tourn was standing right behind her.

  “When the time comes, don’t flinch,” he said. It was a weird moment, and she thought he might say more. Something important. Nope. “Get to it, pilot.”

  Chase felt herself against a wall again, but this one wasn’t of her own making. This was the barrier her father had constructed to keep her out. To make sure their relationship would always be on his terms. Chase had no idea what came over her, but it came on strong. “Kale told me you know how to help everyone under your command. You get everyone what he or she needs. That’s your superpower.”

  “I’m a man. Not a superhero.”

  She fought for more words, but they weren’t as certain as the first ones. “Even so, you couldn’t figure out what I needed. And it was so obvious.”

  “I got you into the Star, didn’t I?” His tone leaked annoyance. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Didn’t you tell me that fifty times?”

  “Want and need are different. And you shouldn’t have faked my aptitude tests. If anyone found out, I’d—”

  “Faked?” He grunted. “You took those tests the summer you were with me. Don’t you remember?” Chase was stunned. She did remember working constantly. Studying and reciting information. Running drills and learning how to use the flight simulator.

  Tourn hadn’t fabricated her application?

  Chase was struck rigid. The whole time she’d been here, she’d thought she’d stolen someone’s spot. “But you…faked…”

  “I did no such thing.”

  The truth stung more than the lie she’d always believed. Without it, she had to accept that she deserved to be at the Star. That she was as smart as her peers. As driven and dedicated. No way. She was tantamount to a screwup, wasn’t she?

  Her breath became uselessly fast. God, Tourn was so good at taking out her knees.

  Chase touched the back of her arm. The long scar was raised even through the layers of her flight suit. She tasted the mud of the landmine obstacle course. “You…you left me beneath that wire for hours.”

  “I wanted you to get yourself out.” He looked away first, and it surprised her.

  “Christ,” they said at the same time.

  “Understand, cadet, that I am no father figure. It’s not part of my mechanism. But I accept that, and I’ve made sure you were looked after at the academy.”

  “Looked after?” Chase switched on, revving so fast that her chest felt tight. “Kale. You told him to treat me special, didn’t you?”

  “I told him you were my offspring. That’s all I had to say.”

  Chase was stunned, her shock bordering on panic. “Am I Kale’s assignment?”

  “Don’t be such a woman,” he commanded. “He acts outside of my orders repeatedly, especially when it comes to you. I even heard he personally invited you to the Star.”

  Chase fell into the memory. Kale in her apartment, with those shoulders that could hold up anything. Fourteen-year-old Chase had thought Kale was there to tell her that her father was dead, but then he sat down with Janice and showed them the acceptance letter. Kale had said that Chase’s tests showed she had real promise to be a pilot, and when Janice laughed, he’d shot the woman a look that should have killed her.

  “So you gave me Kale.”

  “I gave you a life here. Don’t blow it.” Tourn stalked off, and Chase was so disoriented that she couldn’t make it through her preflight routine.

  “It’s cool. I took care of checks,” Pippin said, coming around the right wing. “Hey. You don’t look so great.”

>   “I’ll be fine,” she lied. She climbed the roll-away stairs, ducked into the cockpit, and fastened her harness.

  “What did he say to you?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “But you survived, Chase,” her RIO said through the link in their helmets. “Now we have to fly. Harness up those feelings and whatnot.”

  Chase couldn’t stop herself from watching Tourn walk through the hangar to rejoin the government board. The other higher-ups didn’t talk to him. Didn’t look at him. It had been that way at his own base, everyone giving her father a wide berth. “They hate him.”

  “What?”

  “They look at him and they see dead Filipinos. They see all those media images of the radiation poisoning.” She felt sick. “It doesn’t matter that he was ordered to do it.”

  “So?”

  Things began to line up. Tourn lived as an outcast, seldom leaving his base. Never answering the criticisms on the bombing of the Philippines, which the media dug up whenever ratings were low. It was a wonder he even had that one-night stand eighteen years ago. And when he had finally met the product of that encounter, he’d been so obviously unhappy with her.

  “Did he reject me because I’m too much like him?”

  Pippin was quiet. She felt a change in his breathing through the amplified sound in their helmets. “Chase. Listen to me. You’re both pilots. That’s where the similarity ends.”

  “I always thought I couldn’t cut it, but maybe he didn’t want a clone.” Chase had shown up at his base, ready to enlist. A ridiculous twelve-year-old who bragged she could do fifty push-ups. The way he’d looked at her…so startled. Taken aback even.

  “Think of it this way, Chase. If there’s any kind of decent in that man, he would have kept you far away from him. Protected you from his reputation.”

  “You mean like change my last name to Harcourt instead of Tourn?”

  “Your last name was Tourn? Chase Tourn? That sounds like a comic book hero.”

  “He paid Janice to change it—a week after he sent me back. My stitches were still bleeding,” she said.

  “Your stitches? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chase.” Pippin’s voice was all nerves. “We shouldn’t fly right now. You’re really upset.”

  “We have to.” She fired the engines and felt the roar envelop her. Phoenix and Pegasus were already on the runway. “Can we check in with Arrow…and Sylph?” she added, hoping to camouflage the fact that she just wanted to hear Tristan’s voice.

  “There’s no shortwave radio connection allowed,” Pippin said. “We’re on our own up there. Archmen covered that in the rundown, remember?”

  She directed Dragon out of the hangar and watched Phoenix screech into the sky. Tristan held his hand up. A cocky wave that brought her back to her wings ablaze and the blue silver of Dragon. “I can do this,” she told herself. “I have to.” She took a deep breath. Then another. “Ready, Pippin baby?”

  “Always, Nyxy muffin.” Pippin’s tone didn’t have its usual zip.

  Perhaps he knew better.

  34

  REDLINE

  Breakneck Speed

  Chase pulled it together enough to win the speed test by the length of the Green, hitting Mach 5. Tristan held on to Mach 4, while Sylph made herself comfortable at three.

  Chase’s body thrummed with adrenaline by the time she reached the coordinates for the maneuverability test. Hundreds of old fighter jets hung in the air, creating a cloud of bogeys that reminded her of the swarm of drones she’d seen a few months back.

  “Look at that, Pip.”

  “They’re set up like a maze. You’ve got to maneuver through them like an obstacle course.”

  A sour taste filled her mouth. Obstacle courses weren’t her thing. And if she made a false move, she’d smash into a jet with a poor pilot inside like a sitting duck. She settled herself between Phoenix and Pegasus on an imaginary line and waited for the go-ahead while her hands grasped the throttle and stick uneasily.

  When the signal came, she took off with her heartbeats striking noticeably in her chest. Sylph sprung ahead, showing off her impressive maneuverability. She even looked like she was going to win for half of it, but Tristan picked up a rhythm and ended up beating her by a Streaker wing.

  Pippin and Chase had a good view of Sylph’s swearing, slamming anger in her cockpit a few hundred yards away. “She’s going to make Riot’s ears bleed,” Pippin said.

  Chase eyed Phoenix off and on, feeling flashes of the previous night’s engagements. She held on to the image of him kissing her, making her laugh. And then the conversation that stretched on and on until they were punchy with exhaustion. The memory almost managed to push away her stinging thoughts about Tourn.

  And her thumping anxiety over the final test.

  “What now?” she asked Pippin.

  “We wait to find out what this combat is all about.”

  They didn’t have to wait long. The fighter jets started to weave. All of them. Dragon’s missile lock alarm went off, making Chase seize in her chair.

  “Every single one of those birds is engaging!” Pippin yelled.

  Chase watched the cloud of jets come to life and turn at her. “Holy shit, they’re trying to lock on us!”

  The Streakers split up, and the fighters chased. They weren’t fast enough to keep up, but there were enough of them to get in the way and completely muck up her escape. Plus, she knew deep down that she wasn’t supposed to escape. This was the combat portion of the test.

  A dogfight to end all dogfights.

  Chase pulled Tristan’s maneuver, the back loop, and missile locked on an F-18 Hornet. The jet bugged out as soon as it had been tagged. “Well, there’s the secret. We have to tag every single one of these suckers. Here we go.”

  Pippin didn’t answer; he was too busy keeping their tail clear.

  Chase glanced over and saw that Phoenix and Pegasus had caught on too, and the long pursuit began. It seemed to take many hours, although it probably wasn’t more than two. Chase’s eyes went blurry from exhaustion. Her ears stung from hearing the warning alarms when the jets flew too close, but in the end, the Streakers proved they could outfly and outmaneuver every single jet up there.

  Dragon felt like a hummingbird among crows, darting circles, in and out before the jet in question saw her. Her body lined with sweat, and her hands were shaking by the time there were only three jets left in the sky. Three Streakers.

  “Are we done?” Chase asked Pippin.

  “Nope. We’re supposed to get flagged when it’s over.”

  “Then what are we waiting…” Chase’s voice died out. She saw Phoenix move into a striking position behind Pegasus. “No way,” she said. “This is a ‘last jet in the sky wins’ kind of thing, isn’t it?”

  “That sounds about as original as the military can muster. So, sure.”

  Chase watched Tristan gain missile lock on Sylph, who then left the scene with an angry burst of speed. Now it was just the two of them. “This should be interesting,” she said. “He won’t let me win this time.”

  “Does anyone else feel awkward?” Pippin asked. “I feel awkward.”

  Chase threw herself into the throttle and felt the magnetic surge of Phoenix blasting after her. They flew for heartbeats, for minutes. Forever. She swung around when they were way over Canada, engaging him full-on, a strong smile spreading over her face.

  “Nyx!” Pippin yelled, snapping her concentration. “Do you see that? Look at the screen.”

  Chase glanced down and saw a blip coming at them. Fast.

  Faster than fast.

  She peered at the horizon until she saw something small.

  Something bloodred.

  • • •

  Chase lost Tristan in a sunburst. “Red drone! It’s fake, isn’t it?” Sh
e was already running evasive maneuvers, but her mind was a blaze of denial. “It’s for the combat test, right?”

  “Looks real to me!” Pippin yelled.

  She flew zigzagging getaway patterns, but the drone was faster. “Where did it come from?”

  “It must have caught wind of our maneuvers. We were in the sky too long after what happened last week.” Pippin was frantic, punching at his controls.

  “Can’t you get the tower on the radio?”

  “No joy. Can that drone jam our signal?”

  Kale’s warning from a few days ago lit up her spine.

  “Hunted,” she murmured. “So I guess it’s good we’ve got real missiles now, huh?”

  “Good isn’t the word I’d use.”

  Phoenix was flying tight beside her. She checked the desire to look over at his cockpit. She had to go faster. They had to split up. The drone would only be able to follow one of them.

  Tristan must have understood. He broke right. She went left.

  “I guess we win,” Pippin said as the drone swung after them. “Or lose.”

  Chase dropped her altitude and speed until the drone was right on her butt, then rocketed Dragon out over a gorgeous patch of wilderness, complete with emerald fields and a huge bottle-blue lake.

  “There’s no one here,” she said, gasping between each word. “No people down there. We should do it here.” She flipped up the switch cover of the missile control and put a stiff finger on the trigger. “That drone can’t go back to Ri Xiong Di, and it can’t follow us to the Star, right?”

  Pippin’s response came a mile behind her question. “Right.”

  Chase hit the fastest speed she could reach on her tired muscles and swung over the shimmering water. Too fast, the drone was on top of them. She hit the brakes, and it flew by overhead so close that Chase heard the screech of metal on metal. She headed back into the atmosphere, shaking the drone a little bit off her tail before she had no choice but to come back down.