CHAPTER THREE
AND I HOPED TOO SOON
----------------------------------------
Star fidgeted.
The barrel of the gun jabbed deeper into his back. “I wouldn’t, lest you’re wanting to give me cause to shoot you.”
He frowned, fighting to recognize the voice. “I’m taking it this is on account of the ever-so-high bounty I’m worth?”
“It is.”
“I’ve said this far more than I ought to have today, but last I checked, I’m wanted alive.” Star turned his head a fraction before the barrel ground against his body, making it clear to remain still.
“Alive. Blasters don’t kill outright, though. Not when aimed at your hips. It’ll hurt. It’ll burn the wound shut too. There’s a reason they issue us these.”
Military. Great. He pegged the voice as well. “You were back in the bar, weren’t you?”
The button-eyed soldier grunted in what Star took as affirmation.
“I noticed a distinct lack of shinning metal bars on your uniform. Enlisted?”
“Not for long. I turn you in, and with what they’re offering, I can collect on more than just money. Likely I make enough friends with the right people to become an officer.” The soldier’s voice came out deeper than before, quivering noticeably.
Star didn’t think that was how promotions work. He deigned to keep that thought to himself. Aggravating a man with a gun to his back didn’t seem prudent. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”
“More than you, Shepherd.”
Seems like.
Star turned his face a tad more, pressing his cheek against the cold metal in front of him. His gaze turned down the path he’d come from. He couldn’t help shaking. A smile forced its way across his face, and laughter made its way out.
“Even with you making a fool of me back there in the bar, I still got you.”
“Yeah, you did. Didn’t get the pilot though, did ya?” Star’s smile widened.
“He didn’t.” Ahiko stood to Star’s side, staring at the pair. “You know, it’s a nicety to buy a man a drink before jamming your piece up against his rear much like you’re doing now.” The pilot waggled his brow before nodding to Star.
The soldier stammered, pulling the gun from Star’s back. He jammed it against his hips like he was unsure of what to do. “Move, and I’ll put one through him.”
Ahiko rolled his shoulders. “Not much of a bother for me, is it? Let’s say I let you walk with the wanted man. Am I of the right mind in assuming you’d forget about me”—Ahiko pressed a hand to his chest—“and the raucous misunderstanding not so long ago?”
The soldier nodded. “I’m already forgetting.”
Star glared at the self-serving pilot. “Well, you’re fired.”
“Don’t recall being hired proper. Touch odd firing someone for something he didn’t agree to in nothing more than some words exchanged.”
Star blinked, trying to make sense of what the pilot had just said. He looked to the soldier to see if he’d understood it any better.
The military man stared more through Ahiko than at him.
Guess not.
The pilot took a step closer to them.
Star fidgeted as the blaster pressed against him for effect.
“I’d stay where you are, Kohiba. I’d prefer to bring in the Shepherd without a hole.”
Star nodded. “I’m of that mind as well on account of my health remaining wholesome. And not the kind he’s itching to do.”
Ahiko’s grin pulled more to one side. “Fair enough”—he inclined his head—“soldier?” He left the question hanging in the air.
“Creed Benson, and not looking for anymore issue with you, former Captain Kohiba.”
Captain? Star turned his gaze back to the pilot.
Ahiko shrugged. “And I’m not looking none either.” He held up a finger. “Except for the rather large one hanging before us all.”
Creed tilted his head to the side. “What’s that?”
“Greed, Creed. What says you get Star Shepherd over to where you’re planning? At least, not with interference. See, the people on Terizen are eyeing him much like you are. They want a piece. I’ve got the feeling that your fellow soldiers do as well. How fond are you of sharing? Don’t see how one man splits so many ways. And the funny thing is, people split easier than money from what I’ve seen.” The pilot’s eyes glimmered.
Star tried to swallow the knot forming in his throat, but it remained fixed in his place. If the pilot kept it up, Star was likely to be shot, and the former captain would follow. The thought Ahiko might catch a bullet brought Star a measure of comfort.
“I assume you have a suggestion, Kohiba?” Creed eased the weapon away from Star’s back.
“I’m the me and he’s the you in that assumption”—Ahiko nodded to Star—“meaning it’s best not to assume, unless you want to be the ass.”
Star imagined Creed’s eyes spinning nearly the same as his were.
“But as far as you’re wondering, yes, I have a suggestion.” Ahiko slapped a hand against the scanner. “Hangar’s on lockdown behest of military authorization. That about right?”
Star watched Creed bob his head in agreement. A little less attention on me, a tad more on the pilot if you will. Star sucked in a breath, pulling his stomach toward his spine in an effort to thin his profile. He pressed himself further against the wall and managed to inch away from the weapon more.
“I recall that what’s locked can be unlocked, and that upstanding members of the military carry cards to do so.” Ahiko gestured to the scanner with a tilt of his head.
Creed raised a brow at the pilot before eyeing Star. “And?”
“And I’m looking to get off Terizen. He’s got a ship, one wanted and likely to fetch an extra sum if you bring him in with it. Also means you won’t have to share with no one.” Ahiko flashed a smile.
Creed rummaged through a pocket with his free hand, pulling free a card similar to Star’s. A secondary web of precious metal hung suspended between the plastic. It was made of glittering black particulates. He tossed it toward Ahiko.
The pilot caught it and placed it against the scanner. “Could’ve done that yourself.”
The hangar bay doors opened.
“Could have, which is when you might choose to pull something funny and make off with my prize. You want off Terizen, fine by me. We’ll fly out together. But that’s it. You’re not taking the Shepherd or the ship.” Creed ground the barrel against Star to make a point.
“Don’t suppose nobody could take Shepherd? I’m fully able and willing to walk myself down to my ship and be out everyone’s hair.” Star gave the soldier a toothy grin. His answer came in the form of being shoved through the opening. “No, then.”
The hangar was a cavern of cold silver panels and grates. One thing served to break the monochromatic view. The clear paneling showcasing a blanket of black looking like diamonds had been sewn into it. Prismatic gaseous bodies hung in the distance adding a bit of mystic and color to the dark expanse.
“Move.” Creed shoved him again.
Star found slight relief in the distance between the weapon and his backside increasing. He glanced out of the corner of his vision without turning his head. Ahiko had come a few feet behind him to his side.
The pilot whistled in appraisal, nodding to the ship ahead. “Heckuva bird. She do anything other than sit and look pretty?”
Star ignored the comment.
The double Y-frame stood true to its name, resembling the letter. Its proportions weren’t evenly distributed. A near-straight hull made up most of the ship’s six-hundred meter length, curving slightly downward as it reached the bow. Its thrusters hung below the stern, angled downward to the sides much like the wings of a bird in flight. A simple design with elegance that spoke volumes over everything else. It reminded Star of a bird of prey.
“Nice paint job.” Ahiko sounded like he was speaking more to himself. “That polar silver looks a bit too much like white. Has a nice sparkle to it though.” The pilot leaned in closer to Star. “Don’t suppose ole Creed will let me keep the ship when he’s done collecting on you, do you?”
Star’s teeth ground together.
“Think I’ll sell the ship.” Creed chuckled. “Bound to fetch a nice price.”
His fingers dug into his palms as he balled his fists. Star imagined bashing the soldier’s head a few times against the hull of ship.
“Shame.” Ahiko clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Would’ve liked to keep her. Have to scrape off the red stripe running along her sides and wings. Bit tacky”—he nudged Star—“don’t ya think?”
Star amended the imaginary scenario to include the pilot’s skull as well. Maybe he’d be able to perform a percussion solo with both of their noggins.
“She looks fast.” Ahiko had returned to speaking in a tone clearly meant for himself.
“She is.” Star didn’t know where the pilot was going with the questions, but something didn’t sit right. His stomach roiled like his drink had consisted more of tainted water than cheap liquor.
“Mhmm. That makes it easier.” The pilot rubbed his chin.
Star eyed him. “Makes what easier?”
“My job. The one you didn’t hire me for proper, afore firing me rather improperly, truth be told.”
He stared at Ahiko, trying to sort through the tumbled tongue-twister. “I can’t tell if you’re insane or wholly aware of what a pain in the ass you are—truth be told, so long as we’re telling truths.”
Ahiko grinned. “Now you’re getting it.”
Creed shouldered his way between them, still keeping the blaster leveled on Star. Its tip hovered between his ribs and kidney. “I’ve got a bit of truth that needs telling. I’m not particularly fond of either of what you two are saying. Anything funny, and I’ll—”
The pilot waved his hand in a lackadaisical manner. “Heard ya right the first time. You’ll shoot the Shepherd. No skin off me if you do. Though, reckon it’ll be a bit off of him. He might take that personally.”
“Just might.” Star nodded to the ramp leading up into his ship. “She doesn’t open up for anybody. Not that kind of girl.” He waggled his fingers. “You going to let me coax her into letting us onboard?”
Creed eyed him. The soldier’s mouth twitched like he was searching for something clever to say.
Star felt they’d all lost that game the moment Ahiko had shown up.
“Nothing funny.” Creed narrowed his eyes.
Star tipped two fingers to his temple in a simple salute. He turned to Ahiko. “You know, I finally think I understand you.”
The pilot arched a brow.
“How’d you like to help me pilot this bird?”
Ahiko’s brow rose higher. “You offering me a job?”
“I am.” Star gave him a look.
“Like hell you are.” Creed moved the gun from Star’s side and turned toward Ahiko.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
The pilot ran a quick hand through his hair in frustration. “Well, shoot.” He surged to the side, ramming Creed with his shoulder. Ahiko turned and shoved Creed again and sent the soldier toppling. “Move, Shepherd. Get her open.”
He didn’t need the shouting. Star clambered up the ramp and slammed a palm on the underside of the ship. A panel fell open. He jabbed a finger across the segmented screen, keying in the combination.
Supersonic chirping rang out as a lance of blue lightning struck the air a foot from the panel. The space around the ship’s hull shimmered a faint violet and dissipated almost as fast.
Star whipped around, eyeing the fallen Creed.
The soldier aimed the blaster at him.
Damn.
The ship’s hatch opened with a smooth, gaseous hiss.
“Go!” Star waved a hand to Ahiko, ushering for the pilot to run.
The man obeyed the command and ran up the ramp.
Creed’s blaster flashed.
Star hadn’t registered the bolt, only its trilling cry. His abdomen spasmed as searing heat radiated through the tissue. One of his hands pressed against the wound on instinct. He winced and fell to a knee.
Creed rose to his feet, steadying himself. The blaster remained stable in his grip.
Of all the things not be shaking. Star grimaced, stilling his quivering body as he met Creed’s eyes. Talking wasn’t an option. He settled for something more satisfying. Star tapped a finger to the panel he’d used to open the entrance hatch.
“Don’t. Next one will go through one of your knees.” Creed leered.
Amber light flooded the hangar. An automated voice blared over a low, droning siren. “Detection of discharge, hangar bay two. Security is en route. Please remain where you are. Repeat: Detection of discharge, hangar bay two. This is a category three offense. Terizen station security and local military have been alerted.”
The soldier snarled and whipped about, searching for the source of the speakers.
Star welcomed the distraction and dragged two fingers along the security screen.
The ship’s thrusters groaned in discontent.
Oh, don’t give me that. He pounded the base of a fist against the hull.
A lengthy whine built in the propulsion, increasing in volume with no sign of stopping. Loose metal paneling around the hangar vibrated and threatened to tear free. A metal cart rolled a few inches before the hurricane-like force hurtled it unceremoniously against the far wall.
Creed raised an arm in front of his face trying to brace against the storm.
Star waved at him with a two-fingered salute. The pain from the wound hadn’t subsided, but he managed to dredge up enough words for the soldier who’d made his trip to Terizen unpleasant. “Nothing personal, it’s just personal is all. I’m not overly fond of being shot. Figure it’s best to return a favor done. How’d you like to be shot into space?” Star tilted his head toward the mouth of the hangar.
Creed struggled to level the blaster at him.
Not being keen on seconds, Star tapped the console above him.
The thrusters answered in kind and picked up in intensity.
Creed’s feet left the ground as he tumbled through the air. He crashed to the side of the door leading into the bay. The soldier clawed at the lip of the entrance, trying to pull himself to it.
It had closed during the alarm sounding, a safety precaution to lock down the area.
Star turned and hobbled up the plank into his ship. The ambient lighting hadn’t registered his entrance. Star grumbled, leaning against the bare metal walls of the narrow corridor. A screen sat on the inside paneling around the hatch. He jabbed a finger at it, shutting the entrance to the ship. A low groan escaped his lips as he leaned back. The burned tissue in his midsection refused to stretch. Every movement made it feel like steel hooks raked across his innards.
“You fine, because you don’t look fine? I’m askin’ because it seems like something someone in your employ should do.” Ahiko stood to his side, a few feet further up the incline leading into the main hub of the ship.
Star could barely make out his silhouette in the darkness. “It’d behoove that someone in my employ to fetch a medical kit so their employer doesn’t leave them unemployed on the account of dying. It’s bad for one’s financial affair.” Star grimaced and swallowed a hiss trying to make its way out of his mouth.
“Right, and the lights. Hard to do any of that in the dark, which, it needs pointing out, is where you’ve been keeping me on why you’re wanted by the authorities.”
Star glared at the pilot.
“I’m taking your silence as a request to shut up and go find that kit?”
He imagined Ahiko was smiling. The pilot could have benefited from a straightening that came from the punching sort. “Yeah, not so much a request, as much as it is an order from your new employer. That is…depending on how long you’re wanting to be employed for.” He exhaled and removed his hand from the wound. Bothering to make the retort to Ahiko had only served to aggravate the injury.
“Right. Might help if this place weren’t on the dark side.” Ahiko banged a fist on a panel.
Star grunted in agreement. He leaned toward the panel he had used to shut the hatch. Three of his fingers swiped horizontally along its top.
A gentle thrum ran through the ship, preceding the burst of white light. It carried the intensity of a neutron star.
Star shut his eyes and welcomed the warm red of the inside of his eyelids in place of the jarring light. The optical assault weakened enough for him to take a peek. “Hate that every time.”
Ahiko stared back at him, blinking hard as if trying to squeeze the discomfort clear from his eyes. “Well, that’s a touch too bright.”
“A touch.” Star couldn’t argue the fact.
“Seems like a waste of power too. How much fuel can this thing sling anyhow?”
Star averted his gaze. “Enough.”
“For?”
“Till we get to where we need to.”
“Which, I should point out, is easier when that information is shared and all. Especially so with the pilot, on account of me needing to know where I’m heading.” Ahiko’s face remained neutral, but his eyes shone.
Star waved him off. “Right now where you’re needed is up front and piloting. Don’t bother talking back. I’ll fetch the kit myself. Go.”
Ahiko’s mouth twitched as if he were going to argue, but he caught Star’s look and swallowed the reply. He nodded to himself and sprinted ahead.
A staccato of chirping peppered the air like screaming hail. Sounds like slapping wet clothing tinged each burst of shrieking lasers.
“That sounds bad!” Ahiko’s voice echoed through the ship.
Star ignored him, gripping an overhead railing and using it to haul himself forward. He lumbered into the main hub, a circular room with a series of corridors leading out of it.
The whole of it was made of bare metal and carbon composites. Star hadn’t found the time for decorating between being hunted and shot at.
A set of thin slits ran along the curved wall to his right. Each slit was wide enough to slip his fingers between. He hobbled over to the first one, jamming a hand in and wrenching with more force than necessary.
The panel exhaled a light puff of air before slowly rolling open as if to spite his urgency.
Star grumbled and rummaged through the storage bin. His fingers brushed a smooth can that rolled out of his grip. He fished for it, wrapping his hands around it. Star plucked it free and extended its slender nozzle of a tip. His eyes shut on reflex before he lifted his shirt and depressed the button at the back of the can.
A glacial breath washed over his abdomen. He released a high-pitched note. The wound numbed, and unseen grains of sand rushed across his skin to replace the pain. His breath came in ragged gasps. The can fell from his grip, rattling on the floor before rolling away.
The ship shuddered as its thrusters screamed louder. It hadn’t drowned out the sound of the blasters impacting the shielding.
Ahiko came into view from around the corner. He leaned out of the corridor leading to the cockpit. “I’m as much for a show as the next man, but that’s not the show I’m wanting to see right now.” He nodded to Star’s exposed midsection. “Especially since there’s another one of the explosive kind happening outside. Might want to come take a look. Seems important since they’re shooting at us.”
Star grunted in an effort to clear his throat. “And let me guess, you find yourself mighty important and allergic to being shot?”
The pilot grinned. “That about sums it up.” He receded into the hall.
Star pushed off of the storage lockers, smacking the base of his fist against the open one. It retracted as he set off after Ahiko. He turned the corner and hobbled down the hall. The windows of the cockpit brought to light a scene he’d feared.
A torrent of miniature comets bombarded his ship only to meet resistance in the form of flaring violet.
“How long’s that shield set to hold? Impressive, by the way.” Ahiko leaned against the console, eyeing their surroundings.
“As long as we don’t go anywhere.”
Military personnel had swarmed the hangar. Each was clad in a zero-environment suit in the event Star decided he was no longer content with sitting in the hangar. Terizen Station security were mixed along with the soldiers, dressed similarly and tethered to secure railings and pillars. They carried an assortment of weaponry from military lasers to outdated projectilelaunchers.
Each got the job done—painfully so, as far as he was concerned.
And I’m painfully concerned. Star pressed a hand to his side and weighed the situation. He knew the barrage wouldn’t cease until the personnel outside collapsed the ship’s shields.
Ahiko strapped himself into the pilot’s seat, shooting Star a glance. “I’m not one to point out things that aren’t under my purview—”
“Then don’t.” Star collapsed into the seat beside him, running through the auxiliary checks. He allowed Ahiko to take care of the primaries. Man’s going to keep talking anyhow.
The pilot’s fingers danced overhead and in front of him in a mechanical process that managed to carry an inherent grace. It was the sort that could only come from decades of practice.
Star noted Ahiko didn’t have to look at what must have been an unfamiliar ship console to him.
The pilot navigated it with an uncanny sense.
Ahiko shot Star another look before nodding toward the hangar exit. “And I know it ain’t my job to say—”
“It’s not.” Star finished running his checks. “But I’ve got the feeling you’re going to anyway.”
“You know me so well and in so short a time. I’m nursing a serious worry as to what will happen when we head out that way.” Ahiko inclined his head toward open space.
“Cell reserves will hold the shields enough for small arms fire.”
“And how is it they’re holding up for this long?” The pilot stared hard at him.
Star averted his gaze. “Is it a problem?”
Ahiko shook his head.
“Good, then take us out.”
The pilot’s brow furrowed. “We’re still held under the lockdown.”
Star held out his hand. “The military card you pocketed. I noticed you didn’t give back to ole Creed.”
Ahiko quirked a smile. He pulled the card free from a pocket and handed it over.
Star took it without looking and slipped it into a slot near the far right of the console. He thumbed a switch to the side, waiting for the device to read the card.
Ahiko stared past him to the box. “That a stripper?”
Star nodded. “It is. Will pull every sort of code and authentication from the man’s card it can before wiping it. That’s our way out. Transmit code to the hangar bay’s automation system and force open the lockdown.”
“Which is when I take us out and into what—I ought to point out—is going to be a larger mess. Terizen Station has defensive weaponry. The funny thing about that is what’s defensive’s always been a matter of perspective. Same things used to protect ‘em will be turned on us to render us into none too similar to your bounty image.”
Star held his look. “We’ll be fine.”
Ahiko’s mouth twitched, and he looked out the window like he didn’t believe Star.
He pushed aside the pilot’s doubt and keyed in a command on the stripper box.
The transparent barrier ahead quivered in disdain as if it didn’t want to heed his order. The amber lights strobed erratically before dying out to be replaced by a sea of angry red. Baritone alarms sounded.
“Unauthorized departure. Hangar bay two depressurizing. Warning.”
“Well, at this point, seems safe to say I’m going to be joining you on them wanted lists.”
Star eyed him. “You almost sound like you want that.”
Ahiko slapped his hand onto the T-shaped lever near the center of the console. “I’m not one to commit to anything halfway.” A twinkle formed in one of his eyes. “Think they’ll make the bounty as pricey as yours?”
There was something terribly wrong with that man. Ahiko shouldn’t have been walking unassisted, much less flying after how the man had been drinking. And Star had made him his pilot. There must have something equally as wrong with him for doing so.
The barrier receded into the right-hand side of the hangar wall. Station and military personnel were yanked into the air by invisible hands. The only thing keeping them from joining the endless expanse were their harnesses. They twisted and twined round one another like leaves caught in a storm. A soldier managed to squeeze of an erratic burst of laser fire that skirted over the ship’s shielding. The impacts prompted a series of angry purple flares.
Ahiko released a triumphant, rolling howl and flicked a trio of switches.
The ship juddered as the landing gear retracted, suspended only by its thrusters.
“Into vasty nothingness we go!” Ahiko slammed the lever forward.
Where he hoped they’d stay without issue.
His ship quivered once almost in anticipation before launching out of the bay. He struggled to see anything more than the black tapestry of space and sequined stars.
Ahiko’s cry picked up.
He’s going to kill us.
The pilot smacked his hand against the bare paneling running along the side of the console.
“Don’t bang her.”
Ahiko threw a hand to his forehead in salute. “Aye-aye. Besides, I like to know the name of a gal before that happens. Seems proper.”
Star rolled his eyes. “The Last Leaf.”
Ahiko grunted and pursed his lips. “Odd named girl.” His expression sobered, and his eyes widened as he rubbernecked.
“What’s wrong?” Star’s heart doubled its pace.
“Remember those defensive weapons I mentioned earlier?”
Star’s heart sunk into his gut, the spasmodic throbbing refusing to calm. “I do.”
“They’re getting offensive.”
The air in front of The Last Leaf erupted into light that pulsed without stop. It was like watching never-ending hail strike the surface of a lake through an amethyst lens. The shields flared as the silent onslaught took place.
Star noticed the lack of irradiant colors cutting through space. “Station’s armed with projectiles?”
Ahiko gave a quick jerk of his head that Star took to be an affirmative. The pilot’s hands blurred in response to the situation.
“Bit antiquated, no?”
Ahiko glared at him. “See how I’m busying myself with the sort of work that’ll hopefully lend to our survival? You asking questions isn’t conducive to me doing that successfully. I’m defending and keeping this leaf from falling out of the sky. How about you do the task you seem all too prolific at and offend—greatly so.”
Star arched a brow.
“She’s got weapons, don’t she?”
Star gave Ahiko a level look. “You want me to open fire on a station filled with civilians? I may be the wanted man, but I’m thinking your priorities are a little muddled. How keen are you on raising your bounty to match mine? Because that’s the way to do it.”
Ahiko’s mouth twitched, and he turned away from Star. The pilot pulled back on the throttle, sending the fingers of his left hand pecking across the console.
The Last Leaf slowed and the bow tilted up.
Star’s fingers dug into the side of his seat. “Oookay. I think this is the proper time to be discussing just because the ship can do something isn’t an invitation for you to go about doing—”
Space tumbled outside of the cockpit. Stars spun across his vision, becoming the only point to orient himself. They blurred to the point he worried his sight was slipping. Star’s universe changed orientation every second. His view shifted through six different directions.
The Leaf tumbled as purple-hued light strobed in defiance of Terizen Station’s attack.
“So far, so good.” Ahiko’s composure was holding better, Star noted.
A palm-sized monitor wailed.
“I spoke too soon. I have that habit.” The pilot sighed and took note of the display. “Shield’s running on cells? And they’re near gone. How’d they hold so long back in the hangar?”
Star developed a case of deafness and hooked a thumb to the right of the cockpit. “Take us out of here.”
“Can’t. World of problems with your plan, Shepherd.” Ahiko kept his gaze fixed ahead.
“Let me guess, you’ll do me the kindness of telling them to me.”
Ahiko slammed the lever up.
His harness tightened around him as the ship accelerated. Star rattled in place, trying to keep his head from tearing from the rest of him. He thought it was a good enough plan for the moment.
“Don’t know where we’re heading. Your fault, by the way. Wanna take a stab at what happens when you do tell me? No, don’t bother. I’ll save you that. I have to slow down long enough to set us up. And in the mean time—” Ahiko jabbed a finger at the screen displaying shields.
“Not much left.”
The monitor chirped in distress before silencing.
Ahiko’s eyes went wide.
Star’s mirrored the pilot’s.
“I’ll need to amend that. We’ve got nothing.” Ahiko’s eyes narrowed.
“Your look says it’s worse than nothing.”
Ahiko exhaled. “It’s worse than nothing. We’re tagged.”
“What?”
“One of those old projectiles you seem to frown on happened to be a ship tracker. Made it through—yes, you guessed it—when the shields piddled out. We go anywhere, and the military is following.”
Star grimaced and looked out the window. “Put her down before we’re put down.”
“And before the military’s birds catch us. By the by, they’ve sent some to meet us.”
There’s my hopes becoming issues. And I hoped too soon.