I fumbled with my crystal chain earring that I was given three years ago, while I stood at the cliff in the northern part of the forest. That was here, when he gifted me the earring. A turquoise colored crystal shaped into an orb that danced inside its diamond shaped silver encasing. The chain connected it to my ear and it gave a quiet clang whenever I moved quickly.
Nanay never found out and hopefully never will. I told her I picked up that earring from an antiquated store and they didn’t have the other pair anymore. She never asked me again. And dad never asked me of my nightly adventures at that time. They all never seemed to care or ask what I did since I busted the pilot test when I entered school.
It made sneaking out to see Gam.
I turned gently, my left foot pointed down to the ground, swiping the ground while I fanned out my arms. It was time for sure. I had to return to school. Only five days until I graduate and start my expected life as a tactician. Maybe that way Nanay will look at me, her daughter that disappointed her.
The hoverbike engine hummed when I accelerated. The warm summer winds blew my hair, crops and treetops into waves. Five more nights until I wouldn’t easily sneak out anymore. My stay would be on base. And a clear for leaving was very much needed from the instructor. I could probably leave once or twice a week, but more than that could rouse attention and notice towards my mother.
I shook my head, there was no need to worry about that. I passed by the Monte Bianco western residence, where my house was located and anyone who worked for the military. Everyone got to have the bare minimum. And a lot of them didn’t live in their homes, but were offered to own them in case they wanted their families to be transferred here. Many of them did. Very few had family left as it was a tradition to have their descendants join the army as well. Future and career chances or part of a free choice in that abolished since the Monoceros reduced us down to one billion. Which seemed stretched as that fact might have changed since the assaults became more frequent.
I stopped at the Monte Bianco marketplace for dried fruits, then sat down at the fountain of lady Mary. Mother of Jesus according to the bible. This particular statue depicted her as a young adult with her baby in her arms and a shepherd's staff to her feet. She was promised to another man before she received the divine child. Grandma used to tell me stories about the bible. One of the very few that didn’t die out when we lost the internet.
Mary was someone I could relate to. We both had a sure place before until either a god or cosmic luck changed our future. And both of us gladly accepted our new roles.
As I arrived at the school library, Mariam skittishly greeted me with a tight hug and opened a seat for me.
I fumbled with my one crystal chain earring, again, as I read yet another new military report about change of tactics and equipment. The tactician training was ruthless. Keeping myself up to date with every single change that happened in the current defense against the Monoceros took me all nighters.
Mariam grabbed my tablet and packed it into my bag. “You were not listening. Did you?”
I frowned at my best friend. “Can you repeat that for me again?”
She pouted, making her face rounder. “I can’t believe you don’t care. All you think about is the army like you’re possessed by the same ghost as your mother or brother.”
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That again. A ghost that possessed my family to fight for humanity. It seemed like a normal motivation for any soldier. Or anyone who lived around Monte Bianco. When a child reached the age of fifteen, they were put through the pilot test and when they scored more than 50% they were drafted for the military to become one of many pilots. Mariam scored less and I scored even less than her, 19% which was the lowest ever recorded.
I said. “I’m sorry for not listening.” The restless nights drained more of my awareness than I expected it to be.
Then I leaned back into my chair in the library, stretching my blazer as I crossed my arms. Only five days left for me to wear the school uniform. It was similar to the soldier one: a white blazer with a black tie beneath a navy jacket and navy pants or skirts, depending what your preference was. And the colors of the seams changed depending on your occupation on the military base. Pilots wore the golden ones, medical staff had red, like Mariam and I wore the sky blue seams, a tactician.
Mariam frowned, making her curly locks that sprung out of her tie wobble. “I said, Marlon Schmidt of the US Atlantic base moved to West Atlantic Base.” She whipped out a picture of the man on her tablet. “This picture was released this morning, we will be working closely with him.”
I pressed the off button of her tablet and raised a brow. “I get it.”
She opened up the image again. “No, you don’t. He comes from a family of heroes. He will be another Ace and he looks good.”
“Since when do they send ships out again?” I asked.
“Yesterday.”
“Did they use a mecha to defend the ship?”
Mariam’s lips curled into a smile, then raised three fingers up. “But the others were not piloted. The son of a hero defended it all by himself.”
I stared at her. “Who was the co-pilot?”
She shook her head. “None, he can be a solo pilot.”
I kept staring. This was rare, but not unheard of. As far as I know it came with a heavy strain on the pilots body. Especially on the brain. Mother was an ace pilot, and had done it before. That was before she got shot down in the atlantic. I quit gazing into the dark green eyes of my best friend. “So, it’s true. They attack Europe more frequently.” I said.
The reports I received from the base didn’t explicitly tell us about the change of attacks, or frequency of attacks. But the period between attacks stretched out in the last months and the number of attackers thinned down from thirty to eight. And the strangest part about all of it was. They never attacked first in those months.
Mariam flopped down on the table, with her face down and mumbling. “Why us? We just want to live in peace. I see my future –” She hopped up and her hands curled up together into one fist, then expanded. “ – Poof. There it goes.”
A clinic on a small hill, remote from all the chaos and caring for the locals was a dream Mariam had since kindergarten. It never changed. Unlike mine.
“What about we end this war once we start our new lives on the base?” I jested.
“Only if the base gets another de Sanchez. Did your mother ask you to redo the test?”
“I will be on base.” She will never dare to ask me to pilot a Terran, was what I wanted to answer, but I replied with. “No, she has been busy with work.” Especially after her promotion to first sergeant.
“But are you going to try the test again?” Her tone was solemn.
I unpacked my tablet. “No, I’m a tactician, not a pilot.” I smiled at her before I returned to reading the recent reports again.
I busted a machine in my last test. There was no need to repeat that.