by S A Shaffer
Ike started up the burner. Within a few moments the lift gas flash heated, and the skiff rose into the air. It only took the Berg seconds to pinpoint their location after the whine of their airship reverberated through the forest. Mit could see half a dozen airships swirling like vultures above the scraggly, white trees. How Ike hoped to climb past them without getting shot to pieces, Mit did not know. He was starting to regret his decision when Ike slammed the accelerator down, and the skiff rocketed forward while they were still beneath the tree canopy. Then he was really regretting his decision. Mit gripped his seat with white-knuckled fingers as the airship lurched back and forth dodging trunks, limbs, and stumps. Ike was insane. No pilot could fly through such debris at this speed. Mit looked out the windscreen and then regretted it as the motion twisted his vision in knots. He took deep breaths and pushed away the nausea.
Chain gun fire riddled the trees around them. Mit swiveled his chair to man the rear gun, but Ike stopped him from firing.
“Wait till we are out of the woods. Their shooting at shadows right now. They don’t know where we are. Firing will give us away.”
What he said was true. As Ike banked the ship up the side of the Rorands, the enemy’s fire continued along their original course. The Berg lost the Alönians to the cover of shadow, the whine of their engines, and the howl of their chain guns. Ike kept the ship beneath the canopy yet climbing and climbing up the side of the slope. All at once, the trees fell away as the airship passed the invisible line where flora ceased to live. Mit looked down the steep slope they had just climbed and saw the squad of Berg airships continuing along the valley where they had begun the chase. He’d never even needed to fire his chain gun. Ike pulled the airship away from the mountain and cut across the sky toward a cloudbank.
“Get ready.” Ike called from up front.
“For what?” Mit said.
“They are in that cloud bank; I’m sure of it.” Ike said. “I’m going to try and get above them, but I have no idea what they are hiding in there. I think this is the test they wanted all along.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you can’t have an Alönian airship, what’s the next best thing? A dogfight between their ship and yours. They’re testing themselves.”
“But Berg doesn’t have skiff craft.” Mit said as he tightened his restraints and checked his chain gun.
“I very much doubt that to be the case anymore.” Ike said as he let off the throttle and split power between lift and thrust.
Mit wished the aeronaut would get it wrong for once, for not a moment after they began their climb over the wisp of clouds, three airships shot out of the mist. They were unlike any Bergish ships Mit had ever seen, small and sharp against the moonlit sky.
“There it is. A Bergish Skiff.” Ike said. “I think we may learn more on this trip than originally planned. Hold tight.”
Mit checked his mirrors and noticed that the Bergish gunships below had broken off their chase of the phantom in the forest and now climbed toward them at an alarming rate. Berg above and Berg below. He felt hopelessness closing in around him as the Bergish skiffs started firing. But Ike wasn’t about to go down without a fight; in fact, he didn’t seem interested in going down at all. Mit was first slammed against one side of his seat and then thrown to the opposite as Ike resumed his sporadic maneuvers. He felt weightless as they dove away from the skiffs. He swallowed down some bile as he tried to call out at Ike. High ground was everything and this insane pilot was giving it to the Berg without a fight.
“If you plan on using that chain gun, now’s the time.” Ike said as he committed to the dive.
Mit kept his comments to himself and sighted in on the enemy, determined to kill at least one of the ships before he went to his grave. He squeezed the trigger and watched one of the skiffs erupt into flame and break apart.
“I got one!” Mit said with excitement, but then he checked himself as he aimed at another skiff and pulled the trigger. He realized the skiffs did not return fire. “Why aren’t they firing back?” He asked.
“Because their foolish compatriots from below have climbed into their crossfire.” Ike said as the ships forward chain guns barked. “Also, I don’t think they knew this ship had a tail gun. You may find them a harder target from now on.”
Ike was right, again. The two remaining enemy skiff diving after them bounced around as Mit squeezed off bursts of rounds. Then, he felt his seat press into him as Ike leveled off their dive. Three ships from their original pursuers sped by as Ike passed through their formation. These were larger ships with multiple gun emplacements and at least five crewmembers.
“Weren’t there six of those?” Mit asked as he peppered one of the floundering gunships with bullets. It listed to the side as its balloon hissed with sealant.
“Actually, whatever you see behind us is all that’s left of them.”
Mit gaped as he realized Ike had downed three gunships in one dive.
“Don’t worry about the last of the gunships.” Ike called as he veered the ship back and forth and bullets whizzed by. “They’re too slow to cause us concern. Fire on those last two skiffs.”
Mit begged to differ as to what was, and what was not a concern, but he did as asked and fired a burst at the closer of the two skiffs, which were overtaking them as they completed their dive. The vessel spun away as his tracer rounds passed over it. He might have landed a hit if Ike wasn’t hopping about the sky like a kite in a storm.
“Can’t you fly this thing in a straight line?” Mit said as he missed his shot yet again.
“Priorities, man. Do you want to kill the enemy, or survive?”
Mit groaned as the ship bobbed again, and he felt his stomach churning.
“Oh… I don’t think mommy likes us beating up on her children.” Ike said and Mit spun his chair forward to see what he meant. He wished he hadn’t.
The most enormous airship he had ever seen dropped through the clouds into their flight path.
“Well, I think we’ve seen enough.” Ike said and Mit fell back into his seat as their airship’s velocity halved. At the same moment, the two pursuing skiffs shot past. A few bursts of the main chain guns later, and both were falling from the sky in flame. Mit saw the corner of a dangerous grin on the side of Ike’s face.
Then Ike pointed their skiff at the enormous airship and accelerated to full throttle.
“That’s no ordinary Super Fortress. I think we need a closer look.”
By this time, Mit had exhausted his stores of surprise and shock. So he found himself nodding along with Ike’s insane idea.
“Sure, that’s… that’s fine. Sounds good to me.” he said.
As they neared firing range of the ships long guns, Mit saw that it was indeed different from any Super Fortress he had ever seen. It bore the same shape as standard fortresses—a multi-decked armored spire—but this one had an unusual compartment in the middle. As he looked at it, large bay doors opened along the strange compartment and several dozen skiffs zoomed out.
“A Super Carrier!” Ike said. “And no doubt the first of its kind. Too bad it’s filled with garbage skiffs. Be sure to give them a proper solute with your gun as we fly by, will you?”
Mit rotated his chair around, but not before he saw Ike flip a safety cover from a small red button. He looked down his sights and prepared himself for one last fight. All of the sudden, their skiff bucked so hard Mit thought his head might fall off as he was flung into his restraints. Flame consumed the entire view of his tail gun port. His buckle pressed into his stomach, and the nausea he’d been fighting the entire flight forced itself upon him once again. In the midst of his panic, he heard the most peculiar sound: Laughter. Ike was laughing.
As quickly as it had begun it stopped. The flames behind them extinguished, and the ship resumed its normal flight pattern, and the Super Carrier was far in their wake. Ike still chuckled as he banked the ship into the clouds and prepared for the journey home. Mit grab
bed the small bag beside his chair and emptied his stomach in three long wretches. Ike said nothing, but he did pass back a handkerchief and some water.
“What the devil just happened!” Mit said as he slowly swiveled his chair around and faced the front of the skiff again.
“That, my friend,” Ike said, “was a little something our scientists attached to this skiff in preparation for the mission. They call it the afterburner.”
“Why the devil did you turn it off?” Mit said as he wiped his mouth. “Why not rocket all the way back to Armstad.”
“I’m afraid it’s still in the experimental phase. If I power it for more than a few seconds, we will either burn our engines out or set the ship alight. Still, I wish I could have seen their faces as we passed them by.”
Mit swallowed and rubbed his face. “I forgot to salute them.”
Ike leaned around his chair and looked at Mit. “Damn. Well, we could always go back…?”
“You’re the Devil, Ike.” Mit said as he drank some more water. “Where did you learn to fly like that?”
“My father taught me.”
“Well what’s his name? I want to tell him he’s raised a demon.”
Ike laughed. “His name is David as well.”
Mit paused in mopping his brow. “Is he also in the military?”
“He is.”
“And he’s an admiral, wasn’t he?”
Ike nodded with a chuckle.
“Well that would follow.” Mit said. “Is he as crazy as you are?”
“Probably worse,” David said. “I think he gets more reckless as he gets older. The only thing the old goat is afraid of is dying of old age.”
Mit laughed and felt better for it. “What’s he like, I mean, what is he really like? The history books paint such a dramatic picture.”
“He’s not really dramatic at all, more lighthearted and playful. He knows every man on his airship and beat everyone in cards at least twice. When he’s not in his battleship, he enjoys causing havoc in his skiff across the quiet countryside. The old man just doesn’t know when to retire and the Armada certainly won’t force him.”
“Sounds like a pleasant man.”
Ike nodded. “The very best of men.”
Hearing Ike talk so about his father made Mit feel envious. His own father had been very different. Violent and abusive until his dying breath. May the Maker have mercy on his soul. What kind of man would Mit be if he’d had a father like Ike’s? What kind of man would he be if he hadn’t put a bullet in his own father’s head?
The rest of their trip went by in relative boredom as the two passed through a cloudbank across the border and through the pass into Armstad. That first mission gave them both a tremendous boost in their perspective fields, given the wealth of information they carried back. It was the first of many missions, a partnership and a friendship. They flew into Viörn twice and the Outlands on multiple occasions. They were the most effective team in Alönia, that is, until something rather sensitive came between them. At the end of their last mission, Mit drew the short straw and had to present their findings to the intelligence committee. He asked Ike to deliver a letter on his way home, a letter to a beautiful young lady named Marguerite.
◆◆◆
Mit took a deep breath as he shut the folder bearing all his old mission logs. They were filled with memories he had long since buried until the appearance of David Ike, similar in appearance to his father and every bit the pilot. He looked down from the balcony where he stood. Sounds of sparring echoed up from the exercise room below. There, David worked with Francisco, as he had been every night since his surgery, steadily increasing his strength. He’d spend his days spying on Blythe and his evening training with Francisco. His efforts were not wasted. Already he walked without hindrance or imbalance. He could eat soup with his new appendage and land most of the spoonfuls in his mouth. In sparring, he bested Francisco one in five times, though his inhuman arm contributed to that in a large way, and he could almost fire his father’s triple barreled revolver without injuring himself. Still, he progressed at an alarming rate fueled by sheer determination. He was a good boy, every bit the son Mit always wanted. It made Mit wonder if he should welcome David as the son of the only woman he ever loved or hate him for being the son of his greatest enemy: the man that betrayed his confidence and stole the life he might have had.
He opened the folder one last time and looked at the picture of him and Ike smiling, arm in arm, receiving the Ebony Cross for their acts of valor. How that had changed only a few short weeks later. Mit stood and walked away from the balcony toward the hospital ward section of the facility. He passed a few empty rooms until he came to one with a light on inside. He knocked gently before entering. There, he found Marguerite, the woman that had caused him so much grief all those cycles ago. The woman who chose his best friend over him in marriage. A small piece of him wanted to ridicule her in her misfortune, to ask her where she would be right now if she’d chose differently at the altar. But that part of him was wrong. Perhaps the part that hurt the most was the fact that he knew in a dark corner of his heart that he lost her to a better man. The woman had suffered tremendously in recent cycles, but the happiness she had before then was evidenced in her extraordinary son.
“You have to understand, Marguerite,” Mit began, but paused to look away. “I had no idea you and David were alive. I’ve spent cycles trying to forget you even existed. If I had known your situation, I would have interfered long before. By the time I found out, David was mixed up with Blythe and I had to proceed with caution. It wasn’t… vindictive. I swear it.”
He looked at the limp body where it lay on the bed, a shadow of the immense beauty it once possessed. He expected no response, but that didn’t prevent him from longing.
“He’s a good boy, one of the best I’ve ever met.” Mit said after a moment, forcing himself to go on. “He’s like his father. I can see he’s had good parenting, and regardless of how I feel towards Ike and yourself, your boy is evidence that you had a happy life together.” He sniffed away a tear. “The truth is, I miss Ike. I missed our friendship the moment I started hating him. I should have let go of my anger long before now. Perhaps if I had, things would have turned out differently. I promise I will make it up to you. I’ll watch after the boy in these troubled times. I spoke with Dr. Abraham, and he’s going to attempt an experimental surgery on you. If it works, you might be able to speak again, but it could also kill you. Since you are already dying, I would imagine the risk to be worth the chance to talk to your boy one last time.”
Mit sat for a moment longer, until he saw a tear roll down Marguerite’s cheek. The sight threatened to overwhelm him with emotion. He didn’t expect a reaction out of her—he didn’t even know she could still cry—but those tears, the tears of a suffering mother, broke his heart. He rushed from the room with tears in his own eyes, unable to control his raging emotions, yet a feeling as though he’d let go of a great weight.
THE EVERPINE RESORT
David had visited House Thornton many cycles before, but given his age at the time, he possessed no impactful memories. He remembered trees, and that was all. Coming back as an adult gave him an entirely different perspective.
The office staff, as well as a whole host of political freeloaders, filled two airbuses and flew to the far southwest corner of Alönia. As these were the golden days, there were no clouds to obstruct their view. David watched out his window for the entirety of the 7-hour flight. He saw the swamps of House Franklyn, the grasslands of Ellery. Away in the distance he saw part of Hopkins’ hills. But as the sun began to set on the far side of the Alönian Isle, he saw the looming shadows of Thornton’s forests. If he hadn’t known about the famed trees, he would have presumed their airship had dropped in elevation. The tops of the massive succulent everpines reached 200 fathoms into the air… on average. The tallest recorded everpine stood 257 fathoms into the air and was known as none other than Big Stanley—the name o
f the forester who discovered it. In due time, investors built a resort around the mammoth tree overlooking the astounding forest that stretched across the entirety of House Thornton.
David’s airbus descended into the trees as the sun sank behind the mountainous backdrop of Alönia. Glowlights illuminated the path through the forest giant as shadows deepened and darkness descended. David glued himself to the window as the airship slowed to a crawl and meandered between the forest giants. He tried to see the forest floor, but even if it had been daylight, the tree trunks sank into darkness long before they touched the life-giving soil. That was the secret of Thornton’s exuberant landscape. Springs flowed out of the surrounding mountains and filled millions of nutrient-rich bogs that pocked more than 200 square grandfathoms of land. The combination of the bogs and the trees gave way to a paradise rich in both plant and wildlife.
David peered through the growing shadows and saw more nocturnal beasts than he had ever imagined, indeed the forest was as vibrant during the night as it was during the day. For, as was the case in all of Alönia, the absence of sunlight promoted a vibrant bioluminescent ecology. Massive purple shelf mushrooms jutted out from several trucks with flat tops and intricate patterns woven by their flowing web of veins. Some were large enough to hold airships, which, of course, they did. Florescent salamanders three feet in length climbed to precarious heights to snag fist-sized glowbees with their sticky tongues. Gangly tree jumpers leapt 25 fathoms between branches, pouncing on unsuspecting rainbow-grubs. As one leapt, its firry underbelly shimmering in the darkness, a shadow swept over and snatched it out of the air.
David gasped and pressed his face even harder against the window searching the bowers for another glimpse of the dark predator. He didn’t get one. Despite only seeing a shadow, a creature that large and that agile in flight could only be a Leatherwing. David had read about them in school: the largest winged creature in the Fertile Plains, and they only lived in Thornton. They were a kind of amphibious bird that bred in the bogs and hunted in the treetops. David watched as luminescent wonder after luminescent wonder shimmered past his window until their airship docked alongside an extravagant landing that ringed one of the enormous trucks.
