Allegiance

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  “Easy, man,” said a familiar voice. “I got enough scars.”

  X lowered the blade but didn’t sheathe it as the figure approached, hands up. The man stepped into the drip of moonlight, revealing a bearded face, glasses, and a grin.

  “Rodger,” X said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Watching, like you. I always worry about Mags.”

  X sheathed the sword and turned back as the airship lowered over the forest. Discovery wasn’t even a tenth the size of the airship that the Cazadores had mounted atop an oil rig and turned into the Sky Arena and gardens, but it still made the ground tremble when its feet touched down on the dirt pad.

  The launch-bay doors hissed open, and a ramp extended downward. Michael gestured with his robotic arm for the divers to follow him inside.

  X resisted a powerful urge to move, as if a force were tugging him to join the divers and plummet through the unending chaos of the storms.

  “I hope they all make it back,” he said.

  X unsheathed his sword again, this time handing it to Rodger.

  “Hold this for me,” he said.

  Rodger took the sword and looked at it, clearly at a loss what to do with it.

  “X … what are you doing?”

  “Going where I belong. Tell Miles to hold down the fort while I’m gone,” he said with a grin. “He’s sleeping in my quarters.”

  “Wait …” Rodger reached out, but X was already running toward the retracting boarding ramp.

  “Hold up!” X yelled.

  The turbofans kicked up a cloud of dirt that formed a hazy halo around the landing zone. X covered his face with a sleeve.

  “wait!” he yelled.

  The airship began to pull up.

  A rear thruster fired, and the ship moved toward the edge of the rooftop. X ran after it, still shouting and partially shielding his eyes from the gusting wind.

  Someone must have heard his voice, because the ramp stopped retracting and started to extend back down. But the ship continued to move, as if whoever had heard his shout hadn’t gotten the message to the captain.

  X ran harder, and when he was under the platform, he jumped and grabbed for the ramp. His fingers closed around the metal bar at the end. The airship pulled over the side of the roof and rose into the sky with X dangling from the retracting ramp.

  When it was just shy of disappearing fully into the ship and squeegeeing X off into the sea, it stopped, and a diver scrambled over from the launch bay. X looked up to see Michael’s frowning face.

  “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Michael said.

  “Just pull me up!” X yelled over the turbofans’ loud racket. His sandaled feet kicked for traction against the hull, but he couldn’t reach it.

  Discovery rose higher into the air, leaving the capitol tower behind. A glance down revealed a black desert of water, and it occurred to X that this would be one stupid freaking way to die.

  “Come on!” he yelled.

  Michael grabbed him and yanked him up and onto the platform, ripping his shirt. Magnolia took his other arm and helped him to his feet.

  Together, they retreated inside the launch bay as the doors sealed shut.

  Panting, X nodded at Michael and then Magnolia. “Thanks for the help,” he said.

  Magnolia took off her helmet. “You just love to keep testing that whole ‘Immortal’ crock, don’t you?”

  “No one said anything about you coming,” Michael added.

  “Because I wasn’t planning on it—sort of a last-second decision.”

  When X turned away from them, every eye in the launch bay was on him. All the new divers, Cazadores included, wore the same confused look.

  Even Alfred, the lead technician, had stopped working on Cricket. X avoided the curious gazes and looked at his locker.

  But he wasn’t here to dive.

  The hatch to the room opened, providing a welcome distraction as Les reentered the launch bay. He looked as baffled as everyone else.

  “Sir, what are you doing?” he asked.

  “Decided to come along and watch,” X said.

  Les paused, then said, “Suit yourself. We’re climbing to thirty thousand feet and heading to the drop zone. Should be there in twenty minutes. The ship and rescue craft are already in position to make sure it all goes smoothly.”

  “Good,” X said. “I’ll meet you on the bridge soon.”

  “Okay,” Les said in a tone almost of resignation. He turned away, and X noticed how thin he looked from the side. It wasn’t just his normally confident voice that had diminished. He had lost more weight despite having access to more nutrition than ever before in his life. X hated seeing the man like this, but there was nothing to be done. He had to grieve in his own way.

  The hatches closed behind the captain, leaving X with the divers and technicians. Alfred finished up on Cricket and moved to help Alberto and Hector with their wrist computers. The Cazadores weren’t familiar with the technology.

  Another tech helped Sofia with her booster pack. Arlo was still stuffing his long, curly hair into his helmet. Lena, the quiet former militia enforcer turned Hell Diver, held the helmet for him while he muttered profanities.

  X couldn’t even really remember what he was like at their age. That was half a lifetime ago and seemed even longer. He watched them from afar, studying their tense features.

  Arlo had been a good friend of Trey Mitchells and had joined up after his death. He finished getting his hair tucked away, and there was the trademark rakish grin as he flirted with Lena who was still holding his helmet. He brushed back a lock of her hair to whisper something in her ear that made her smile.

  “That’s why they call you Thunder?” she said loudly enough for X to hear.

  I hope you’re as good at diving as you are at charming, kid.

  Arlo looked his way and nodded as if he could read X’s mind.

  X smirked.

  He liked this kid already, but would his instincts and his boldness with women translate into what he would need to dive through dark skies and electrical storms?

  They would find out soon enough.

  The other divers prepped their gear and performed last-minute checks on their armor and systems. Some chatted in hushed voices and flashed suspicious looks at X. Hector and Alberto stuck with the other Cazadores, while the sky people clustered together.

  The King had not expected them to mingle freely, but he hoped they would soon learn to dive together. He would teach them about having each other’s backs—the most important part of being a diver.

  Michael finished talking to the technicians working on Cricket. The robot chirped, the hover nodes flashed red, and it rose off the launch bay’s deck and followed Michael, who flashed a proud smile.

  “Nice work,” X said. “Reminds me of that vacuum bot you put back together when you were just a kid. Remember that?”

  “Of course,” Michael said. He pulled X aside and, in a serious tone, said, “X, what are you really doing here?”

  “Look, Tin, I know you got this under control, but I wanted to be here for the first dive outside the Vanguard Islands.” X kept his voice low. “I’m worried some of them aren’t ready.”

  Michael looked over his shoulder. “Everyone’s passed the jump test in clear skies, but I am a bit concerned about a few of them, primarily—”

  “Ted Maturo,” Magnolia said, joining them.

  Michael half frowned, as if he didn’t quite agree but couldn’t really argue with her choice.

  “Silver Fox is terrible,” she said. “No way he makes it to five dives. I’ll bet my poker bankroll on it. Chances are good he hurts someone else, too.”

  X looked at Michael to get his reaction but got nothing.

  “Not everyone is cut out to be a diver,” Magnolia said.


  “Maybe hold him back,” X said, trying not to make it sound like an order.

  “Agreed,” she said. “Have him dive a few more times in clear skies before you give him the green light for the storms.”

  “Only way to learn is to dive,” Michael said. “But if you both think he isn’t ready, I’ll go let him know.”

  X appreciated that Michael listened to advice. He was a lot wiser than X had been in his twenties. Hell, X was still crap at taking counsel.

  “This should be interesting,” Magnolia said, folding her arms over her armor.

  Ted was crouched down, working on his gear with his back turned. X went for a better view and saw the rookie was actually taking a drink from a silver flask.

  He stood up with a smile as Michael approached. The smile vanished in an instant.

  “No, I’m ready,” Ted said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Michael shook his head. X couldn’t hear his words, but everyone could hear Ted’s reply.

  “Commander, please, I can do this.”

  The other divers looked up from what they were doing, and the ritual clicks and clanks stopped. Michael patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

  Ted turned, glaring at Magnolia as if he knew that she had something to do with this. Then he turned and walked away, kicking at the air in a fit of frustration.

  “What are you all looking at?” Michael said to the surrounding divers. “Finish your gear checks.”

  As they returned to their work, the wall-mounted speakers crackled. “Prepare for slight turbulence,” said Les. “We’re entering the barrier. We will hit the DZ in approximately T-minus-eight minutes.”

  The divers donned their helmets and lined up in teams behind the veterans: Michael, Edgar, Magnolia, and Alexander.

  “System checks,” Michael said.

  The teams went through the final steps to confirm that their HUDs were working properly and their suits were sealed.

  A red light strobed from the corners of the bay, and a siren sounded, warning of the imminent launch. The divers all faced the launch-bay doors in anticipation.

  All sense of movement ceased a few minutes later as the airship reached dive altitude over the drop zone. The speakers crackled again.

  “Team leads, report,” Les said.

  The newly reassigned leaders acknowledged.

  “Raptor One, online and ready to dive,” Michael replied.

  “Angel One, good to dive,” said Alexander.

  “Phoenix One, locked and cocked,” said Edgar.

  “Wolf One, online,” Magnolia said. “Let’s see what y’all got.”

  The dozen new divers reported in, confirming that their systems were operational.

  “Dive safe, everyone,” Les said when they had finished. “Remember your training.”

  “Team Raptor goes first,” Michael said.

  The launch-bay doors hissed open, and he stepped up with his team, waiting to lead the first new boots into the black void.

  A cool blue light swirled from the corners of the bay. X had always found it calming before jumping into the hell that awaited them.

  Lightning forked across the black skyline like a misshapen sword stabbing into flesh.

  X retreated from the blast of freezing air to the center of the launch bay. The platform extended outward, and Michael led his team toward the dull, pitted metal. Cricket hovered after them and then dropped like a rock into the darkness, to get into position for aerial video of the new divers.

  “We dive so humanity survives!” Michael called out.

  “Hell yeah, we do!” shouted someone behind X. A figure darted past him and sprinted around the diver teams.

  “Wait!” X yelled out.

  Before anyone could stop the idiot, he ran onto the platform and leaped into the black abyss. At first, X thought it was a technician or some crazy crewman who had decided to get creative with suicide.

  Then he realized that the guy was likely committing suicide.

  A glance into the corner where Ted had been sulking told him the rest. And if the kid was as bad as Magnolia said, chances were that he was now taking his last few breaths in this life.

  FOUR

  “Everyone else but the team leads, stay put!” Magnolia shouted.

  Michael and Alexander had already dived off the platform, and Edgar followed her into the black, leaving the new divers inside the launch bay with X, who had run over wearing nothing but his ripped T-shirt, shorts, and sandals. The doors sealed the other new divers inside with the living legend.

  If he’d had his chute on and was suited up against the negative five degrees Fahrenheit, she had no doubt that he would have jumped out to see that Ted made it safely to the ship.

  The reckless greenhorn had already gotten a few seconds’ head start, and Magnolia couldn’t see him in the darkness below. At thirty-two thousand feet, they had only two to three minutes to make sure he wasn’t in a tailspin and could deploy his chute properly.

  She could kick herself for even letting him onto the airship in the first place.

  Scanning the black emptiness, she saw no sign of his battery unit.

  Shit, he must be in a suicide dive.

  “Ted, get into stable fall position now!” Magnolia shouted into the comm.

  “I got this, Mags! See you on the ship!”

  This time, she cursed out loud. “Stupid son of a bitch.”

  There was no denying that Ted had cojones, but big balls coupled with inexperience was a dangerous mix that got people killed. Still, she couldn’t deny that he was a bit like her rebellious younger self.

  What Ted didn’t have, however, was speed and agility like hers, on the ground or in the air. She just hoped he could hold the dive all the way to the surface. If he hit turbulence and spun out of control, there wasn’t much they could do unless they caught up to him fast.

  Lightning raked the clouds in the distance, and her HUD flickered from the disturbance. She checked the digital map and reached down to her wrist computer to switch from Team Wolf to Team Angel.

  Four other beacons blinked, representing the heartbeats of the three team leads above her, and Ted, a thousand feet below.

  They crossed the twenty-two-thousand-feet mark—a third of the dive already behind them. Magnolia was almost to terminal velocity, her arms tucked back against her sides, body straight as a Cazador spear.

  Thunder cracked like a rifle shot in her ear, distracting her for a moment. Her eyes flitted to a dazzling display of lightning to the east. Here on the edge of the storm, the new boots could get a sense of what a real dive was like, without getting zapped. But Les had maneuvered them close enough to test their nerve.

  Another skein of flashes lit up the sky. Magnolia searched the black anvil below, hunting for the glowing blue dot of Ted’s battery pack.

  “I don’t got eyes,” she reported.

  Michael came up alongside her in a nosedive. Alexander and Edgar spread out, flanking them. Static broke over the comms, then a scream.

  Magnolia felt the first jolt of turbulence tugging her sideways. Biting down on her mouth guard, she pulled the falling dart that was her body into a horizontal position.

  She finally saw the erratic blue strobe of a battery unit—Ted, cartwheeling through the sky. Catching up to him would require serious skills and extreme caution.

  She had to maneuver carefully, or the turbulence would throw her off course too, and send her crashing like a fish on a cresting wave.

  “I’ve lost it!” Alexander shouted over the comms.

  Magnolia could see in her mind’s eye what was happening. The turbulence had knocked him out of his dive. Edgar was next, tumbling out of control, but Magnolia managed to keep her orientation through the shear.

  Michael shot past on her right, his armor
glowing red from his battery unit.

  A hundred feet out, another red light caught her attention. Cricket was tracking the tumbling bodies, but there was nothing the two-armed robot could do now. Maybe if Michael had been able to replace the other two missing arms … Without them, the bot could only monitor, not assist.

  The blue light of Ted’s unit vanished as the cloud cover thickened and, with it, the turbulence. Magnolia tried to maintain her core tension but finally succumbed to the forces lashing and tugging on her body.

  She held in a scream as she pitchpoled sideways, end over end.

  The lightning seemed to come from all directions.

  Perhaps it was a good thing, Ted doing what he did. If the other greenhorns had hit this pocket, it could have resulted in crashes and potential deaths.

  She fought her way back into stable position, belly down with knees and elbows bent at ninety degrees. Her suit rippled violently in the wind.

  “Ted!” she shouted into the comms. “Ted, where are you?”

  The blip representing Ted on her HUD was blinking sporadically, which told her he was still spinning. Worse, he was over two thousand feet wide of the DZ. No way in hell would he make it to within a quarter mile of the target ship.

  Ted was going to land in the black ocean, and even if he managed to get his chute open, he could easily drown, entangled in the shroud lines, or be easy pickings for all sorts of voracious sea creatures, while waiting for a boat to pick him up.

  She resisted the urge just to give up on the rescue and let fate take its course. And the Magnolia of twenty years ago might have done that—maybe even the Magnolia of ten years ago.

  But diving was in her blood now, and despite Ted’s flagrant insubordination, she couldn’t just let him die if there was a chance of saving him.

  Straightening her legs and pulling her hands in to her thighs, she became an arrow again, angled to meet his runaway trajectory. Another glance at her HUD told her she didn’t have much time.

  “Ted, listen to me!” she shouted. “Put your arms and legs out and arch your back, just like we taught you!”

  The muffled reply was indecipherable.

  She checked her HUD again. Six thousand feet to the surface, but she had closed the gap between herself and Ted. The glow of Michael’s battery unit confirmed that he, too, was gaining on the out-of-control greenhorn.