“I am bound by my vows to silence when it comes to certain things, such as secrets I am entrusted with,” the reverend explained. “Your husband has little appreciation for that.”
“No, he wouldn’t like that,” Aerie agreed. “Not when information can save people’s lives.”
“Some secrets can still protect people,” Reverend Thorne said. He nodded toward her. “That’s part of the reason I kept yours. I knew you deserved a chance to see our world. And once I saw Exton’s reaction to you, I had a feeling you could help him, too.”
Aerie said nothing, knowing that he was right on both accounts. She was grateful for his silence on her behalf, allowing her to stay onboard the Perdition and find out the truth of the world herself. And she knew Exton felt the same way—he’d called her his miracle.
“If you want,” the reverend said, “come to the sanctuary sometime. We have plenty of people who can discuss your questions there.”
Aerie nodded. “I will,” she said. She brightened. “I know Olga and her family would like that. They’ve invited me before.”
“Well, then hopefully I’ll see you there soon,” Reverend Thorne said. His face wrinkled even more as he gave her a wide smile. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Thank you. It was nice talking to you too,” Aerie replied. Even if I didn’t get all of it. As she watched him walk away, Aerie suddenly wondered if he’d known Exton’s father, too.
That’s a discussion for another time, she thought, remembering she had her own task to accomplish. She turned and headed back toward the exit, determined to get to the Bridge before the shift change.
“I’M PULLING UP THE latest information right now, milady.”
Aerie smiled and nodded, almost watching in wonder as Henry and the other crewmembers worked in unison around the controls. There were so many buttons and screens, Aerie thought as she admired the Bridge.
The computers and stations crowded the immediate area, but Aerie knew there were even more areas where different protocols were undergone. There was the Records Room, where she knew they kept all the files and monitored the ship, and there were conference rooms for group meetings. Engineers and techs working on everything from electricity to systems to sanitation would come in once in a while, but mostly it was the same cast of crewmembers who greeted Aerie as she entered the area.
The first day she showed up as Exton’s representative there had been a lot of curious glances and some staring. But by the second day, most people seemed satisfied by their captain’s choice of ambassador.
For her part, Aerie was relieved. She knew she hadn’t struggled the same ways that the crew had. They had been in space, hovering around the world and circling the moon for nearly seven years. Some of them had transferred from Petra or other ally camps around the world from time to time, but she knew from the few times she’d been there that only a few had done that. And of those, many of them had come back after a few years or even a few months.
Henry was one of them. For the past three years, he had been Jared’s understudy, working on learning how to pilot the ship. He told Aerie he came back to the Perdition after he got bored being on Earth.
“At least up here, you know you’re doing your part to resist the evil the world has to offer,” he’d said. “Being down there, it was too easy to forget to fight, especially if I worked somewhere comfortable.”
Aerie had been impressed by his dedication, especially for his young age, and she said so. Henry had instantly transformed from ally to friend when she told him. He even gave her the “milady” moniker as an affectionate tribute.
He glanced at the screen before him. “Well,” he said. “It looks like they’re making their first run.”
“I’ve established the comm,” another voice spoke up from a station behind him.
“Thanks, Thora,” Henry called.
“I’m not Thora, I’m Greer,” the woman retorted.
“Apologies, Greer.” Henry shot her an apologetic look. “I’m used to Thora.”
“I’ve noticed.” Greer smirked back. “This is the third time today I’ve had to correct you.”
“Apologies, apologies. I’ll make it up to you if I do it again.”
This seemed to satisfy Greer, who sat back in her chair and smiled brightly.
Aerie put a hand up to her mouth, hiding her own smile at the exchange. Even in the midst of war, people still found a way to make friends.
“Well, milady,” Henry said, turning back to her, “if you’d like to listen in, we can give you a headset.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” Aerie hesitated as Henry tossed her a headset. She hadn’t worn one since that awful two weeks when she was stuck in the URS, back when she was having trouble remembering the Perdition. Part of her was repulsed by the headset itself.
The other part of her told her other people were counting on her to be brave.
She put the headset on. Instantly, she fell into the world of warfare. She glanced at Henry, who nodded toward the monitor, where she could see the satellite feeds from the area.
Different leaders were chatting with each other across the lines.
Aerie instantly recognized her mother’s voice, and she even thought she recognized Jared as he talked over the comm.
“Headed toward the target,” Merra said. “No interference so far.”
“Any chance this will be a clean discharge?” another pilot asked.
“There’s always a chance.” Merra’s voice was cheery enough. “Still, let’s make sure the shuttle can pick up the crew.”
“What about the ship?” Jared asked. “Aren’t we going to try and save it?”
“No, too risky,” Merra said. “We’re going to cut our losses and chalk it up to Chaya’s irresponsibility this time.”
“But—”
“But nothing, Jared,” Merra insisted. “We’re at war and the target is close to a State-held base. We’re lucky we haven’t seen any missiles coming our—”
Blip! Aerie glanced up as a blinking light suddenly appeared on the monitor. The instant it turned red, she gasped.
“Bogies, headed your way,” Greer said. There was a catch in her voice. “Multiple POs, most centered at zero degrees north, seventy-two west.”
“Targets locked,” Merra responded. She started calling out orders to her small crew, working on a group strategy.
Aerie turned away from the main monitor, too worried to watch. She turned toward Greer, who was typing so fast her fingers blurred over.
“Where are the missiles coming from?” Aerie asked. Her classes on military combat never seemed more further away as she watched the bustling room around her.
“Close to the old city of Cartagena,” Greer told her. “It’s been a quiet base for years, but they’ve been moving around a lot since Panama became more active a couple of years ago.”
“What’s going on at Panama?” Aerie asked.
“It’s a military base for the URS right now,” Greer said. “It’s been hit hard by the ecological disaster, and by the fact the country has been compelled to rent out the space to the States.”
“What’s the state of the canal there?”
“The Panama Canal? It’s still being run, though there are not as many shipments as there used to be. No one likes to travel by sea under the cloud cover. It’s too thick, there’s a lot of discharge, and it’s turbulent. Too easy to get off course.”
“Like Chaya’s ship.”
“Exactly.” Greer gave her a big smile. “Even with all the algorithms we have in place from up here, it would be hard for one of ours to navigate the oceans well.”
“Bogies are headed toward the ship,” Henry called.
“Intercept,” Merra ordered. “Intercept, now!”
“Doesn’t the ship have scrambler tech?” A new voice came over the intercom. Aerie was surprised to hear Brock.
“I’d rather not find out the hard way,” Merra told him. “Henry, what’s our status? Where’s our
critical target?”
Aerie watched, transfixed, as red lights lit up the screen. More missiles were being shot out different areas south of Panama.
“The URS Craftcarrier is oh-five-four from your current position,” Henry called. “It’s moving slower than it was before.”
“Maybe with all the missiles launching, it’s working on gaining a strategic advantage POV?” Cal retorted. “That would slow it down some, especially considering who it’s dealing with here.”
“I doubt the carrier’s the one attacking us,” Merra said. “The missiles are first-line defenses we likely triggered just by passing into the area. The Craftcarrier defenses are less economic.”
Dorian’s voice chimed over the intercom. Aerie knew it was his voice, rather than Cal’s, because he was always the less obnoxious between the two of them. “We need to split up. Some of us should to stay here and protect the ship, while some of us need to go and take care of the Craftcarrier.”
“Good idea,” Merra commended, her voice proud. “I’ll lead the attack on the Craftcarrier. Jared, take command of running interference.”
“Roger,” Jared replied, his voice eager.
“Dorian,” Merra called. “You and Cal protect the ship. The shuttle should be there in a few moments to get the crew.”
“We’re better marksmen than protectors,” Cal said, interrupting. “We’ll follow you. Someone else can stay with the ship.”
“You need to learn your place, Cal,” Merra said. “That is an order. Brock, come up and flank me. Stay close on the approach.”
“The Craftcarrier has stopped its advance,” Henry said. “It’s hovering now, over the old Colombian air space.”
“Would that be where the missiles are coming from?” Aerie asked Greer.
“Huh?” Greer looked up at her. “Oh. It’s possible. But it’s more likely the missiles are ground attacks from the angle we’re reading. The Craftcarrier has stalled.”
Aerie brightened. “Can you open the comms?” she asked. “We might be able to communicate with them.”
Greer raised her eyebrows. “That’s a good idea,” she said. “Henry, get this girl a station.”
Henry jerked around, surprised, but didn’t question Greer’s order. He hurried Aerie to the far side of the room. “Here, you go,” he said, booting up the monitor.
Aerie hurried to get to work. I guess on some level, she thought, it’s good I went back to the URS long enough to figure out their comm system.
She almost laughed at the thought of her old boss, Director Anand. He would be pacing the floor, slowly and loudly going mad if he knew she was just about to use her skills against the URS.
Serves him right, for making me work late and overtime so much.
Aerie quickly dismissed her cranky boss from her concerns and began pulling up the Comm Sec information. She was surprised to see that it was full of static; only a few frequencies were clear for use in the South American region. She switched over her headset to block out her mother’s forces and focused on finding the URS.
“Well, at least this will be easy,” she told herself, already flipping through the open channels with a hailing frequency. She could tell she was getting a little rusty, but her confidence was quickly returning.
Her mood elated at once as her hailing frequency was answered.
“Identify, identify,” she called. “This is the Perdition, calling for identification and cease-fire.”
A voice answered her a few moments later. “Identification response. This is the Morgan Soromsky. Cease-fire declined.”
Aerie froze. She might have cheered, if the voice didn’t sound so familiar ...
“This is General Dubois speaking.”
Aerie said nothing as Gerard continued to talk, listing off his titles and accomplishments. Her voice caught in her throat as her nightmares came rushing back over her. Her hands shook slightly, as the memory of lightning racing up her body exploded into her mind.
Aerie breathed in deeply, trying to remind herself Exton was relying on her, just as her mother’s crew was, and just as the rest of the Perdition was now, too. There was no time for a panic attack, no matter how much she wanted to curl up into a ball and scream.
She was about to abandon the project when he spoke again.
“Well, it’s good to know that you’re a coward, just like your precious captain,” Gerard snarled.
Aerie sucked in her breath sharply, angry as much as she was afraid. Was it possible he’d recognized her voice?
“Your crew has two minutes to leave this airspace, or we will bring them down ourselves. We will not tolerate another theft of our military prowess,” Gerard said. “And this time, we will have our revenge. You can tell Captain Chainsword that’s a promise from me to him, directly.”
He laughed, cackling along as the static overtook the airway once more.
Aerie forced herself to sit back in her chair. She glanced over at Henry and Greer and the others as they moved through the Command Bridge with purpose and grace. Aerie suddenly felt like an outsider, as if she didn’t belong with these people. She was broken and confused and terrified.
How do they do it? Aerie wondered to herself. She was at a loss as to how they managed to cope with the pressure, especially when people’s lives where hanging in the balance.
She blinked, watching as another round of missiles were launched on the monitor.
What am I supposed to do now?
Aerie thought about calling Henry. She glanced down at the computer controls in front of her, ashamed to wonder if she would be able to explain what happened without looking like a fool.
An idea struck her as she studied her controls. She switched her comm line over to her mother’s forces.
At the first crackle of connection, Aerie felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Mom? Can you read me?”
“Roger, Aerie,” Merra called. “What’s up?”
“Gerard’s on the Craftcarrier,” Aerie said. “He’s further south from your position, but he seems to be coordinating the mission.”
“What did he say? Tell me, specifically. Hurry.” Merra grumbled and let out a string of curses. “Sorry. This isn’t easy, Aerie.”
“Right.” Aerie sighed. “He said you have two minutes to get out of there or he would bring you guys down.”
“Ha!” Merra laughed. “I’d love for that sleazy maggot to try.”
“I ... I’m worried.” Aerie blurted out the truth before she could think about whether or not she would regret it.
“Don’t worry,” Merra told her.
As if it was that easy, Aerie thought grimly. “But don’t you think—”
“Hang on, Aerie. Something’s stuck. I’m going to have to complain to Henry some. Exton told him to check the systems for bugs before we left.”
“What—”
“No!” Merra’s cry penetrated the deep recesses of Aerie’s heart, and then went silent as the line was cut off.
“Mom?” Aerie felt her heart pumping as furiously as she moved her fingers, trying to type in the frequencies.
“I’ve lost the comms,” Aerie called. She glanced up to see Henry was staring at the screen as the seven dots representing the fighters went dark.
“Something’s happened,” Greer called. “We’ve lost the comms, and several fighters are down.”
“Did we miss any bogies?” Henry asked. Aerie could hear the strain in it as he glanced around at the others.
Another crew member stepped forward. “No, sir,” he said.
“Where are the fighters?” Aerie asked. Where is my mother? And Brock? And what about my brothers?
Henry didn’t look at her. He bowed his head.
Greer put her head in her hands.
“We lost them,” Henry finally said.
“How?” Aerie asked, using her anger to steady herself. She leaned over the surface of her desk, fighting to find a way through the situation.
“I don’t know. But the ships are
down.” Henry glanced up at the monitor again. The satellite imaging was cluttered with clouds and smoke.
Aerie gripped her fingers into the controls. “Let me see if I can communicate with any of them,” she said slowly.
“Aerie.” Greer’s voice was soft. “I don’t know what you think you’ll find, but—”
“No buts,” Aerie snapped, shoving the headset back on. She rerouted the comm and tried different frequencies, all in the hopes of hearing familiar whispers inside the impersonal static.
A crackle on the main monitor came alive. Two lights flickered back on, indicating the fighters were back online.
“Report in,” Henry called.
The static hummed for a long moment, before Brock’s voice came in clear. “It’s Brock,” he said. “I’m heading back to base.”
“Brock!” Aerie called. “You’re alive!”
“Aerie? Is that you?” She could almost see the surprised look she knew was on his face.
“Brock, what happened?” Henry cut in. “What happened to the rest of you guys?”
“Cal and I are still flying,” Brock said. “But a static bomb discharged, and then the radios needed to be booted up. Before I could reconnect, the rest of the crew went down. Dive-bombed. Some hit the water. One hit the Freedom. A couple hit ground, but I don’t know where exactly. I flew over them.”
“The ship is on fire, and it’s sinking,” Brock said. “The Craftcarrier is currently firing at it more.”
Henry sighed. “Call off the rescue shuttle,” he said. “We can’t offer any protection now.”
“I don’t know if the crew will be able to get out into lifeboats. I’d keep watch for them from there.”
“We will,” Henry pledged. The defeat in his voice was too painful for Aerie. She cringed as he turned back to Greer. “What is your analysis, Greer?”
“Kamikaze,” Greer said in hushed tones. “Forced kamikazes.”
“How would that happen?” Henry asked, his tone torn between confused and skeptical.
“I’m working on a theory,” Greer said. “Give me a few moments.”
“Well, I don’t know what happened,” Brock offered. “I wasn’t able to talk to the rest of them when it happened. If Cal wasn’t flying next to me, I wouldn’t know he was alive, either.”
The Price of Paradise Page 11
