Charges on either side of the warped bulkhead sent the twisted metal bursting outward. The Aesir drove through the smoke. The precise blast left a clear path for the regular garage doors to shut behind them.
The ground was littered with limp, fallen Jim androids. The mustered Groom Lake Neighborhood Watch lay together, some gray and featureless, some with white faces and dressed like bizarre mannequins in tourist garb. They’d fallen one on top of the other, on top of the other, as far as Enoa could see. It was like an eerie art piece, statues of humans imitating the aftermath of debauchery or some cultish ritual.
Enoa saw too, in the distance, several long cylinders, like tanker trucks, the same gray as the chameleon Jims. They rested on the ground, some pressed together.
The center of the Jim heap looked burned, where the warhead had struck. There were more severed limbs and indistinguishable bits and their oily, licorice discharge.
“Ugh!” Jaleel leaned out of his seat for a better look through the windshield. “What a mess! This shit will be here forever.”
“What will?” Teddy asked. “Oh man. Oh no! What will we do with them all?”
“Maybe we can have them reprogrammed for you.” Orson parked the Aesir short of the line of limp androids. “Have them all be baker’s assistants and delivery drivers for you.”
“Very funny,” Teddy said.
Orson waved to Franklin West and Sebastian Royce. They waited on the ground beneath their own ship. Of the two men, the shorter was blonde and square-jawed, with cheekbones that models and actors the world over could envy. His black jacket, gun belt, and boots also had a flawless cinematic shine to them, like he was in a magazine advertisement for adventure wear.
The other man stood a full head taller, with black hair and a short beard, both flecked with gray. He held himself with the relaxed alertness of seasoned professionalism. His gear looked equally high quality and well cared for, but with none of the right-off-the-shelf newness of his crewmember’s.
Their ship had four long, connected sections, like a flying train. It emitted a bass hum that became audible as the Aesir approached. The train was black and silver, with a ring of windows in the front car and an enormous gun that stuck out the bottom of the second. “Hofvarpnir” was painted in a rich emerald-green along the sides of each section.
Both men waved back at Orson and walked toward the Aesir. Enoa turned away from the vision of unmoving Jims and toward the reunion. Orson met them at the door, as the cabin’s occupants cheered the arrival of the two men.
“Franklin, I thought you were out of the business.” Orson hugged the taller man. “I was scared I dragged you back into serious trouble.”
“I like everybody to think I’m retired,” Franklin answered. “It’s good for my current business, and for my real life, and for the times when my kid friends get into too much trouble.”
“I don’t feel like much of a kid anymore,” Orson said.
“Getting chased for months will do that.” Franklin ran a hand along the Aesir’s wall. “Looks like I just left the place – in a good way. Glad to see the old boat’s still sailing.”
“So this is the Aesir?” the other man said. “It’s all actually real. Well, I’ll be damned.”
“How would we fake the Aesir?” Franklin asked. “There were pictures taken by random people all over the world. No one’s that good of a con.”
“I don’t know,” Royce said. “It seems like just the kind of thing you and Wayne would pull. You’d invent this flying camper fiction for some job and it becomes world famous, so you just keep it up for years until you conveniently retire it.”
“Retire it?” Franklin asked. “We sent it with Orson.” He aimed a thumb at his crewmate. “Orson, Royce says you never met. Is that right? He used to work with Doc Haydn, during his stint being liaison for Ophion.”
“League of Nations North American Analytics Office,” Royce provided.
“Pretty sure we never met.” Orson shook the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for the save.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Royce answered.
Franklin waved to the room at large. “For the couple of you I don’t know, I’m Franklin West. I was in the same traveling crew with Orson a few years ago. Well, now it’s more years ago than I like to think about.”
Teddy and April both hugged Franklin and Royce. Cathy shook hands with both men. Even Dr. Stan exchanged waves with Franklin.
“You may not remember me, sir,” she said. “But I believe we both attended some of the same security briefings after the initial Thunderworks theft, summer 2015, San Francisco.”
“You’re right!” Franklin nodded. “I knew I heard your name somewhere before. Dr. Stanislakova?”
“That’s right,” she said. “Excellent to see you again. And thank you.” They shook hands as well.
Jaleel looked back toward Enoa. She nodded to him. They both joined the gathering at the door. Orson saw them approaching and motioned to them.
“This is my new crew,” Orson said. “Jaleel Yaye and Enoa Cloud.”
“Thank you for helping us,” Enoa said.
“I like your ship!” Jaleel said. “Can I take a look around on the way? Most of the new ships I see are trying to kill us. Orson, are we flying in their ship or in the Aesir?”
“We could probably dock the Aesir,” Franklin said. “I’d be happy to show you around. Cathy, what’s our timetable for your council?”
“As fast as possible,” she said. “I was about to take my bike and leave you here if your introductions lasted any longer. I could send a tightbeam message, but we know so little about the Liberty Corps’ capabilities, even that may not be safe. We have defensive measures in place, and the rest of my crew is there, but I’m needed.”
“Sure, sure,” Franklin said. “We’ll finish introductions and catching up once we’re on the way. How far is your council? We can be moving in under ten minutes. If your bike is faster, I can send Royce with you on our modified loader. He can stay in touch with me, and the rest of will get there as soon as possible.”
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“My bike’s a Sandwheel,” Cathy said. “If we can really be moving in under ten minutes, that will be faster. We have almost seventy kilometers to travel.”
“Yeah, we’ll be quicker.” Franklin nodded. “We’ll be moving in ten, don’t worry. We’ve got a well-oiled machine. Cathy, why don’t you go and grab your Sandwheel. Orson, we’ll get the Aesir docked at the Hof’s dorsal lock. Royce, why don’t you run back inside and get us ready.”
“Thank you,” Cathy said. “April, would you please open the garage door for me?” She leapt from the Aesir and ran back toward the Earthship. Teddy jumped out after her, in a surprising sprint to keep up.
“I’m gonna lock up the house behind us!” Teddy called after him, the house’s control datapad tucked under one arm.
“Check our cameras first!” April shouted.
“Yeah!” He answered.
April sighed. “We aren’t certain how those androids got inside so we didn’t take the time to lock everything.” She sat back in her armchair.
“I’ll take the lift.” Royce also stepped out of the ship.
“And you can get the freight lift ready for Cathy and Teddy.” Franklin cycled the door closed.
“Orson,” Franklin said. “Do you mind if I do the honors?” He nodded toward the Aesir’s pilot’s seat. “I never got to fly again after the battle. We were too preoccupied getting you out of there.”
“Go right ahead,” Orson said. “You were always the great flyer. Enoa, Jaleel, I don’t know if I told you this, but Franklin and our other friend Wayne were actually the guys who flew the Aesir at Norlenheim.”
“Tell me everything!” Jaleel said.
“There’s not too much to say, really.” Franklin walked back to the pilot’s seat. “Not much that Orson can’t tell you, anyway. By the time we got our opening to really hit their fleet, there were so many things in the air, I can’t say we did much more than anybody else.”
“Will this be bumpy?” Orson asked. “Should everyone get belted again?”
“There’s probably no need.” Franklin placed both hands on the flight controls. “Did you miss me, old friend?” The Aesir eased from the ground with only a light tapping sensation at the floor.
The slight motion was still enough to disturb Wesley, who began calling from Jaleel’s bunk, soon joined by the two cats.
“Now, that’s new.” Franklin looked over his shoulder.
“That’s Wesley,” Jaleel said. “Our pet aeropine is back there with Teddy and April’s cats. They’re still freaked out from all the explosions.”
“I know as much as I did before.” Franklin nodded.
“Aeropines are Kappa animals,” Orson said. “He’s a flying porcupine with metal spikes on his back, but he’s friendly and domestic.”
“Oh,” Franklin said. “You know, this is another reason I like seeing you and Sirona and everybody from the old days. It reminds me how my life’s pretty normal again. The flying ship stuff isn’t that out there anymore.”
Through the windshield, Enoa saw something emerge from the bottom of Franklin’s ship. It looked like a freestanding oval elevator. It fell toward the ground, where Royce waited for it.
“I’m taking shotgun this time.” Jaleel squeezed past her and ran up to the copilot’s seat. “Franklin, your ship is Stardyne, right? That’s one of those retro stealth carriers they had?”
“Good eye!” Franklin beamed. “The main chassis is classic Hemera-Stardyne, from their under-the-table courier days. The other compartments are New World Aeronautics and the main gun is Dyalhis Arms, but the bones are Stardyne. Pretty ironic with those Mr. Jims running around.”
“Ironic?” Enoa asked.
“The same long-gone company built my ship and the first generation of those androids,” Franklin said. “Maybe the Liberty Corps appreciates the classics the same way I do. But my classic beat theirs, and to be honest that’s a nice relief. I try to keep the Hof ready for a fight, and make sure I’m ready and Royce is ready, but it’s been real quiet for a long time.”
“The Hof?” Orson asked.
“Hof is the nickname for the ship,” Franklin said. “Hofvarpnir was this legendary horse that could fly to different planets and deliver information to the Gods.”
“Is that a Haydn?” Orson asked.
“No, Doc went M.I.A. before I got the Hof,” Franklin said. “That’s a Wayne name. Remember he was on that big Norse kick before he left the states. Orson, you ever run into him overseas? Last he wrote, he was somewhere in eastern Europe.”
“I haven’t seen Wayne since the Empire City job,” Orson said. “That’s before we got formal clemency from the League remnant.”
“Right.” Franklin sent the Aesir flying away from the ground. He took it in a wide arc, until they floated directly above the Hof. “We still talk a lot, maybe every couple weeks, but the last I actually saw…”
“Franklin?” April interrupted. “I’m very sorry, but there’s something else we should plan for.”
“That’s okay?” He said. “What else?”
“Baron Helmont threatened Cathy’s family too. He said they’re in danger if she fights him, and she did. We need to go and look after them.”
“Is Cathy’s place near where their Council meets?” Franklin asked.
“Yes,” April said. “Same community. Less than a half-mile away.”
“Then that’s no problem.” Franklin turned back toward Orson. “Are both of the new kids fighters?”
“We are!” Jaleel said. “I missed those Jim androids the first time but I’m ready to go now! It’s my turn.”
“We’re ready,” Enoa agreed.
“Great,” Franklin said. “Even if we have to split up, we’ll have more than enough crazy wayfarers to check on Cathy’s family and their Council at the same time.”
* * *
The air atop the Pinnacle Holdfast burned Kol’s throat. Breathing hurt, both in and out. The light-purple sky remained empty – no Liberty Corps air traffic before dawn. He stood between Max and Sir Geber’s team of Shapers. They, and the usual collection of lab techs, gathered alone in the early light.
The Pinnacle’s roof was mostly flat, extending over a quarter-mile in all directions, in a gentle slope, down to the perimeter fencing. A peaked spire and two stories-tall radar dishes stood at the rooftop’s center. From the way the wind struck the spire, Kol saw a faint flicker of blue, slight illumination from the tower’s energy shield. Did the wind carry ice or snow? Or was the base’s shielding so sensitive that even the wind could make its energy field come alive?
Those who stood, exposed to the high-altitude cold on the base’s roof were not so protected. The techs wore heavy coats over their lab gear. Sir Geber and his quartet of Shapers wore white cloaks over their armor. All but the Knight wore their helmets.
Kol’s guards had forced him into a long-sleeved jumpsuit, but he wore no coat and the jumpsuit’s collar hung loose. It did nothing to shield his face or hands from the chill.
Max was wrapped head-to-toe in a thermal blanket, still strapped to the top of his cart, still silent, still unresponsive to their treatment or to any part of the world around him. He stared away from the Pinnacle, toward the valley far below and the opposite mountain peak. The nearest summit looked deceptively close, so close Kol wondered if any of the Pinnacle’s many cable cars might lead from the base to the snowy peak across the valley.
Probably not - it was too far away, probably miles away. But it didn’t stop Kol from imagining, picturing a potential exit, a potential escape.
And he remembered. He remembered how he’d caught Duncan with his projection, how he’d interfered with the Plummet. Could he do that for Max and for himself? Could he learn to lift them across that vast distance, carry them away from captivity?
But his daydream and his momentary inspiration spiraled out of his control. He remembered Duncan’s final fall to the ground, Duncan bleeding, gripping his arms, being carried away. Duncan – his oldest friend. Duncan could be dead and Kol might never know it, never know the proper truth of his friend’s last days. Did Duncan die because of Kol, die because Kol had fought Sloan and Helmont?
“Do you enjoy the brisk climate, Mr. Maros?” Sir Geber called. But he gave no opportunity to answer him. “I hope you do. This is the rest of your life. All because you couldn’t behave yourself and wouldn’t work with me, now we stand here.”
“Each day,” Geber continued. “We will work until you exhaust yourself, really exhaust yourself. And you can be sure I know the difference. I know your mind well now, Mr. Maros. I can’t kill you, neither of you. I can’t threaten Maxwell with a fast trip to the valley floor. No, but I can leave you here, very uncomfortable, as long as it takes to exhaust you and where you have less potential for harm.”
Kol tried to find Max’s calm, to take the same blank interest in the horizon, and to show nothing to the Knight or his forces.
“So,” Sir Geber said. “You’ll work hard to aid our research, won’t you, Mr. Maros?”
“I will,” Kol answered. He expected Geber to force him to repeat himself, to speak louder, to agree to yet more demands. Instead, the Knight waved toward the Pinnacle’s shielded spire.
“Bring out the Projectile Team,” Geber commanded. “We begin.”