Born Hero

by S A Shaffer

  David blushed at all the attention. “I’m fine, sir. I was just a little tired.”

  “Good. Well, take a few days off; spend some time with your mother. You’ve earned them.”

  “That’s not necessary, sir. Really, I’m fine.”

  “No, I insist.” Blythe put a firm hand on his shoulder. “I can’t have one of my aides exhausting himself.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll see how I feel in the morning and decide if I think I’m up to coming in.”

  The airmen secured the ship as soon as it bumped along the dock. They extended the gangplank, and the party said their good-byes and went their separate ways. A few moments later David and Mercy stepped off the ship into the muggy Swollock Season climate, and then the temperamental sky frowned, puckered, and cried all over Capital Airship Landings.

  David started looking for cover or at least something to use as an umbrella for Mercy, but she shocked him by saying, “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little rain?”

  Mercy put her arms out and smiled up at the rain, like she wanted to hug the sky, laughing as she spun in a circle. David stammered as she giggled and grabbed his arm, tugging him forward in the warm tropical rain. They walked down the middle of the Landings in defiance of the weather and the people scuttling around for cover. Women held up their bustled skirts, skipping over puddles, squeezing under overhangs and into boutiques. Laborers with crates and hand trucks flipped up their collars around their necks and did their best to ignore the weather as they went about their business. A few window washers walked down the side of a steel-and-glass building in their magnetic boots, calling it a day due to the inclement weather. One of them stopped and gaped at David and Mercy. David supposed he and Mercy did make quite a sight as they smiled and laughed, soaking up the rain and walking down the middle of the street. David heard a few comments from passersby. One elderly lady thought they might catch pneumonia and spend a week in bed. A laborer thought David a lollygagger chasing skirts while the rest of them worked. A little boy asked his mommy if they were sun-crazed. To which his mother replied, “Yes, that’s exactly what it is,” but then hid a smile behind her hand.

  David wondered at Mercy, as she had never acted this way before. Every time he was alone with her, he discovered a new facet of her personality. This must be what she was like when she truly put her hair down, a step further than the time she had taken him to the suit vendor. Or perhaps recent events had made her see him differently, made her see him as more than a fragile political underling. If that was true, the girl must have had a soft spot for a daring airship pilot. No, this was something more complicated. If all it took to win her heart was a reckless man with an airship, she’d have been promised long before now.

  Once David and Mercy reached the end of the Landings’ docks, they hailed a taxi and climbed into the back, leaving squishy places wherever they paused on the red carpet. They slid onto a bench, squeaking as their wet clothes slid along the leather.

  “You know,” Mercy said as she snuggled up to David, “typically gentleman put their arm around a young lady when she’s cold.” She offered a forced shiver.

  David smiled and laid his good arm across her shoulders. She did ask, and it would be rude to refuse. The air-taxi driver looked back, a little annoyed at the wet carpet, but he only rolled his eyes at the couple and asked where they wanted to go.

  David opened his mouth to answer, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He had no idea where Mercy lived, but he was fairly sure it was in the opposite direction from where he lived.

  “The Linden Lodgings of the Third District industrial sector,” Mercy said.

  The cab driver frowned, clearly taken aback by the length of the trip and perhaps wondering if the young couple could afford the fare.

  “For which we are willing to pay handsomely,” Mercy added.

  The cabbie shrugged and keyed up the airship while muttering something about “crazy kids.” David knew he looked a fool, soaking wet with a girl far more beautiful than he deserved embarking on a taxi trip he couldn’t hope to afford. On the other hand, he really liked it, so he didn’t care.

  The cabbie flipped on the burner, and the airship rose through the rain until it popped out of the cloud cover into the late-evening sunset. David just stared at it. You couldn’t ask for a more romantic scene. The taxi’s interior glowed with sunrays as it sailed over a golden blanket.

  “You never told me about your parents,” David said. “I know they’re from Armstad, and that they’re rich, but do you ever see them? Where do they live?”

  Mercy shivered again, but this one also had nothing to do with the cold. It seemed like more of a shudder. She didn’t answer, eyes looking at something in the distant past. David inwardly kicked himself for ruining the moment, but after a few seconds she spoke.

  “My parents and I are estranged. I haven’t seen them since … since I joined Alönian politics. They set up a trust in my name when I was young, so I never want for money, but that’s really all I have left from them.”

  David couldn’t think of what to say. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything. He wanted to help her, make her feel better, but she hadn’t asked for help. He had nosed his way into her business, and she had shown a little piece of her past as a gesture of trust.

  “I’m sorry,” David said, deciding it to be the best thing to say. “It must be difficult.”

  He felt Mercy relax a little under his arm. He almost had a heart attack when she rested her head against his chest.

  “How about siblings?” he said. “Um, any of those?”

  “Three older brothers. But I haven’t seen them in a long time either. Ruben is a chemist and an engineer, a real whiz for the Armstad research department, last I heard. Ernst works in counterintelligence. Levi went into the Armstad special forces cycles ago. I don’t really know what he does anymore.”

  “They immigrated back to Armstad?”

  “Yes. I was the only one that stayed in Alönia.” Mercy wiped some rain off her cheek, as it had now mixed with tears. She sniffled and shook her head, as if clearing unhappy thoughts. “Tell me about your mother. What is she like?”

  David had wanted to avoid this. He never told anyone about his mother—not that he was ashamed of her, never that. He just didn’t know how people would react, and he loved her too much to let anyone think ill of her. “She’s … kind.”

  “That’s it? Just kind?” Mercy sounded a little disappointed, like he was holding out on her.

  What was he supposed to say? His mother was kind. He remembered that much. But it had been so long since she had said anything to him. He remembered how much she loved him. Time would never allow him to forget that. “She used to be very beautiful, but she got sick … when my father died. She’s … never been the same.”

  Mercy looked up at David before resting her head again. “Well, tell me about your father, then. What was he like?”

  David smiled. It was easier to talk about his father; time had healed that wound more so than the situation with his mother. “Tall, sarcastic … he had an easy laugh. Never missed a moment to kiss my mother and tell her she was beautiful. When I say never, I mean never. Sometimes they were really awkward in public.”

  Mercy giggled. “They sound like they had a happy life together. You said he taught you to fly. Was he as good as you?”

  “Much better. He was the best airship captain in the entire armada.”

  “And your Grandfather taught him?”

  David nodded. “It was the family trade, until … well, until the academy didn’t want me after my injuries. They invest a lot into cadets and space is limited. I was more of a liability for the armada than an asset.”

  “Well, they never saw you fly. I think they’d make room for you if they knew what kind of pilot you are.”

  David smiled. How little she knew. They had seen him fly. They’d seen him fly like the devil himself, but somehow it had only made things worse.

  As they talked, the
sun slid beneath the clouds and the moon rose over the frothy clouds. Stars twinkled outside the windows as two friends kindled something deeper than friendship, but not quite love. All too soon the airship bumped and rocked as it docked against a local taxi hub in the middle of the Third’s industrial district. David sat up, grudgingly, and unwrapped his arm from Mercy’s shoulders. She shivered for real this time.

  “Is your apartment far from here?”

  “Just down the lane.”

  “Would you mind terribly if I came with you and borrowed a blanket for the journey home? I can bring it back in the morning.”

  “Um, well, I …”

  But Mercy didn’t let him finish his reply. She dropped a handful of coins in the cabbie’s hand, grabbed David’s mechanical arm, and towed him out the back of the taxi. After they climbed down the stairs to street level, David was sure to guide them through the most populated areas. Mercy didn’t seem to notice the number of vagrants eyeing her as she clung to David and chattered away. Rain still pattered through the muggy evening, but if anything, the rain brought out the worst the industrial district had to offer. Men and women stood beneath every awning, breathing out clouds of pungent vapor and favoring David and Mercy with false smiles.

  Streetlights flickered along the puddled street, a few flashing in time with the garish advertisements along the building walls soliciting dance clubs, illegal surgical upgrades, and free district-issued antipsychotics—as if the people needed any more drugs. David wondered again if having Public Pharmaceuticals would truly benefit the people of the Third or just field more drugs. Users would be so busy escaping their problems they wouldn’t be able to take advantage of the new facility’s jobs. Then again, having Blythe as speaker was worth the consequences.

  David let out a sigh when they stepped into his apartment’s shabby steam lift and keyed the top floor. It was only then that Mercy quieted, looking around the steam shaft with wide eyes and a wrinkled nose. The new renovations were coming along nicely. The lift no longer leaked, and the mildew smell was almost gone—almost. Once they reached the top floor and walked down the hall, David fumbled with his keys trying to decide how best to prepare Mercy for what she was about to see.

  “Mercy, my mother is perhaps a little more sick than you realize.”

  “How sick is she?”

  “Very. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to have her. Doctor says she could leave at any moment.”

  “Oh.” Mercy bit her lip. “Well, it can’t be worse than not talking to your parents for the past few cycles, right?”

  “No, it can. You’ll see.”

  David found the key and unlocked the door. As he walked through, Mercy let go of his arm and paused at the entrance, one eyebrow raised in question. She walked through the doorway and turned about in the little kitchen, openmouthed.

  “I know,” David said. “It’s a bit snug.”

  “And it’s spotless.”

  David chuckled. “Ella? I’m home, and I brought a friend.”

  Ella walked out of his mother’s room and smiled at them both. “What are you all soaked for?” she asked.

  “Got caught in the rain,” David said with a shrug. “This is Mercy, and I’m loaning her a blanket for her ride home. Mercy, this is my mother’s nurse, Ella.”

  Mercy gave Ella a polite nod and smiled.

  “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Mercy. I’m sorry, but I have to run. Have some chores that need doing before bed.”

  “Thank you, Ella. I’m sorry I’m late … again,” David said.

  “Never you mind. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Mercy,” Ella said as she slipped out the door.

  “Same,” Mercy said as the door clicked shut.

  David fidgeted for a moment before walking toward his mother’s room. “Mom, I have someone I want you to meet.”

  His mother was right where she always was. Sitting in the same torn easy chair, wrapped in the same tattered blanket. David kissed her on the cheek and turned back toward Mercy.

  She edged into the room, at first wearing a polite smile, but when she saw David’s mom, it saddened, looking more forced.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Ike,” Mercy said.

  Of course, David’s mother didn’t say anything. David grabbed Mercy’s arm and positioned her in front of his mother’s blank gaze, knowing that his mom couldn’t turn her head.

  “Mom, this is Mercy. She’s another one of Mr. Blythe’s aides.” David leaned a little closer and mock-whispered, “Don’t tell her I told you she’s smarter than me.”

  Mercy blushed and looked down, her smile easing a little. David brushed his mother’s hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. That’s when he saw his mother’s eyes. They were twinkling, like they had on so few occasions before. It made him smile and blush ruby red all the way to his earlobes. He knew exactly what his mother was thinking, and the twinkle meant his mother knew exactly what he was thinking as well. David had to stop himself from actually telling his mother to keep it to herself.

  “Well, Mercy is here to borrow a blanket. I’ll just be a moment, and then I’ll brush your hair.”

  Mercy nodded and presented another smile to his mother before she followed him out the door. Once in the living room, David turned on the light. Mercy’s face looked pained, mouth working, but hesitant to ask the question on the tip of her tongue.

  He rescued her: “When my father died in the airship accident, he saved my mother and me by tying us both to the only life-balloon on the ship and throwing us overboard. It was a small balloon, and we didn’t have enough elevation once I inflated it. We landed poorly. I landed on top of my mother, paralyzing her. She’s actually quite lucky to be alive. Really, both my parents gave their bodies to save my life that day.”

  Mercy nodded. “She can’t … speak?”

  “Not since the crash.”

  “I’m sorry. That must be difficult.”

  “She’s alive. It could be worse.”

  David walked to the couch—also his bed—picking up the only other blanket in the house from where it lay neatly folded on the armrest. He tried to hand it to Mercy, but she was looking at his pinboard, a puzzled look on her face.

  “What is all this?” she asked.

  “Oh. Well … it’s how I keep track of everything—puzzles I’m trying to solve and such.”

  Mercy looked over the section on Blythe and smiled at the card with her name on it. She read the notes and laughed. “When did you figure out I didn’t like sky fish?”

  “You nearly spit it out when we had dinner with Johnson.”

  She turned and eyed him. “I am not infatuated with red.”

  David shrugged. “You always wear it.”

  Mercy huffed and looked at the rest of the notes. “The man in the shadows?”

  “Oh, that’s a bit of a new puzzle.”

  “Who is he?”

  David shook his head. “I don’t know yet. It’s just, with all the things that have happened the past few weeks, I can’t help but wonder if someone is pulling the strings, you know?” He picked up another card and wrote Prowler Attack on it, pinning it below the one for the man in the shadows.

  “The Prowlers? You think they’re connected to him?”

  “I can’t shake what Captain Arold did with the Sunbeam. It’s as if he wanted us to get caught, steering us toward the storm and keeping us at low altitude. And then there’s the fact that the Prowlers were waiting for us. They haven’t been seen for cycles and then they resurface the moment a ship arrives carrying two of the most powerful men in Alönia? It’s too much for coincidence.”

  Mercy nodded. “It does seem a bit odd.” She traced her finger along the string that connected Samantha with the man in the shadows. Mercy looked back at David with an eyebrow raised. “And Samantha?”

  David shrugged. “I think she was a pawn. She wasn’t intelligent enough to operate alone.”

  Mercy followed another string from Samantha to Paula and a s
mall cutting from a newspaper obituary. “What does she have to do with Paula?”

  “I can’t be sure of anything. I’m just matching questions with possible answers, but … I’ve always thought Paula’s death too horrific and too timely for a simple street murder. A political saboteur filled her position not three days after her death. And then there were the newspapers. That obituary was the only excerpt I could find relating to Paula’s death, not even a whisper about her gruesome murder. Yet the Voxil had entire pages dedicated to Samantha’s scandal, and every other newspaper joined in on the squandering of public funds accusation. It’s all too convenient and strange. Someone is pulling strings.”

  “So what do you know about this man in the shadows so far? Any leads?” Mercy stepped back from the wall and looked at it as a whole.

  David shook his head again. “Someone powerful, someone wealthy, someone who never shows his true face to the world. But I think … I think I actually saw him.”

  Mercy looked at David so fast her limp hair spun in an arc, sending drips around the room. “When?”

  “After Mr. Blythe gave his speech, there was a man in the gallery, standing in the shadow of the curtains. Everyone was clapping but him. He looked right at me, and then he walked out.”

  Mercy looked at David with wide eyes before they filled with mirth and she burst out laughing. “Now you’re just trying to scare me.”

  David smiled and looked down, cheeks turning red, but as he did so, the sky flashed and echoed with thunder, and at the exact same time the only working light in the apartment winked out. Mercy shrieked and grabbed David’s arm.

  “Sorry, sorry. That light is always burning out. Give me just a second and I’ll find the candle.”

  After peeling Mercy’s fingernails out of his arm, he rummaged around on his bookshelf. Every few seconds the entire room lit up as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the Third’s cityscape. Each flash gave him a brief image of the room and Mercy’s nervous face. It was then that he realized it wasn’t only his unreliable light that failed, but the power across the entire city. He found his candle and a match and struck up the flickering flame. He looked around. Mercy wasn’t where he’d left her. She was at the window, looking across the industrial sector. He joined her.