High Flyer (Verdant String)

by Michelle Diener

  “What's the plan?”

  “This is Moiri's office.”

  She'd forgotten he must be very familiar with the building and where everything was.

  He walked to the desk and touched the comm unit.

  “Pollard? We're in the conference room.” Moiri's voice sounded irritated.

  “It's Iver. Pretend I'm Pollard. I'm in your office. Make an excuse, and come over.”

  “I'll be right there.” The comm cut off immediately.

  Hana hadn't moved far from the door, and she slid up against the wall beside it, listening to Moiri's footsteps.

  The administrator had come alone, as requested.

  The door burst open, and Moiri strode in.

  “Iver!” She quivered in outrage.

  Moiri hadn't even noticed her, Hana realized as she flicked the door shut, content to let it stay that way, at least for a while longer.

  “Moiri.”

  The administrator stumbled to a stop, and Hana suddenly realized how disreputable Iver looked.

  His jaw was dark with stubble, and his hair was wild, sticking up a little above his forehead. His clothes were streaked with dirt, crumpled and even a little ripped.

  Her heart gave a little gallop in her chest. He was magnificent.

  At that moment, he lifted his gaze to her, and she caught the flare of something in his eyes.

  Moiri spun as she realized there was someone behind her, and openly gaped at Hana.

  She assumed she looked as bedraggled as Iver did.

  “The pilot?” Moiri asked.

  Hana inclined her head.

  Iver made a sound, and she saw his eyes narrow.

  He didn't like that people thought of her as simply his pilot, rather than a person in her own right.

  She, on the other hand, liked it a lot. The more anonymous she was, the better.

  It was one of the reasons she'd tried to steer clear of Iver from the start. But that spaceship had pinched to the black, as the saying went. It was too late now. Iver was stuck with her.

  She was struck with an urge to smile at the thought.

  “Her name is Hana Farwell,” Iver said, voice cold.

  Moiri sent him a quick, curious glance. “I've heard of you, of course. The most decorated pilot of the war. I thought you were older.”

  Hana lifted her shoulders in answer.

  “We've got problems, Moiri.” Iver's words had the administrator turning back to face him.

  “I'm aware.” The dry humor in her voice made Hana warm to her.

  Iver's lips twitched. “Lancaster arranged for Hana and I to be shot down. Then he was double-crossed by someone else, who shot him down.”

  “Lancaster?” Moiri drew in a sharp breath. “I thought he was trying to find you when he--”

  Iver shook his head. “And he isn't the only traitor. There's someone on the council who's involved, too.”

  “Who?”

  Hana thought Banyon would probably wince at the fury in Moiri's voice.

  “His name is Banyon,” Iver said. “I haven't seen him, but Hana has.”

  Moiri shook her head. “No one of that name is on the council.”

  “It may not be the name he uses except with his fellow conspirators,” Hana said. “And he might be in the Protection Unit, not the council.”

  Moiri grimaced and tapped her foot as if thinking, then strode to her desk. “First thing I need to do is let Admiral Valerian know you're safe. She's sent three special forces runners down to look for you.”

  She'd just reached the comm unit when Hana heard the quick click of footsteps coming toward the office.

  She stepped to the side in two quick steps, getting into place beside the door.

  She caught Iver's gaze, signaled with her hand for him to shift out of the line of sight of anyone opening the door.

  He moved, and Moiri looked up at him, frown creasing her brow, as she waited for the comms to connect with the head of fleet.

  The door burst open, too hard and fast to be normal.

  Moiri lifted her head, and Hana saw her eyebrows lift as a young man strode into the room.

  “Moiri, there's an urgent message--” He stumbled to a stop. “Oh, you're on the comms.” He had left the door open, and Hana took a step toward it to close it.

  Before she reached it, a flash of laz fire flickered through the room.

  It struck the young administrator, danced up to the ceiling and then a thin tendril shot down to touch Iver.

  Hana just managed to suppress a cry. She would have to get across the door to reach Iver, and that would expose her to Linnel, who was the only one who seemed insane enough to use a laz on Faldine.

  She was about to run across in a burst of speed when Moiri raised her arm from in her desk and shot at the open door with the SAL in her hand.

  Linnel made a sound of frustrated anger and Hana used the distraction to leap across the opening, rolling to her feet near Iver, and crouching beside him.

  "Just my arm." He was holding his left arm close to his side, struggling to stand, and Hana helped him up.

  "We need to go."

  Linnel was lying in the doorway in a crumpled heap, but he might not be the only danger out there.

  Moiri was bending over her staffer, and she glanced over at them. "He's out. He needs help."

  "Your boy there set it up for our attacker. There's no way it was a coincidence that he came in just before an attack, and I notice he kept the door open. There was also a little too much melodrama in his entrance. We don't know how deep this goes. Who in your office is compromised."

  Moiri winced, and Hana guessed she was also suspicious of her employee.

  "What will you do?" Moiri straightened up.

  "Tell Carina that we'll be in touch with her people as soon as we're somewhere safe. When are they expected to get here?"

  "I don't know. Not before tomorrow, given where the space fleet was when you disappeared. How will you be in touch?"

  "I'll find a way." Iver gritted his teeth as he moved to the doorway and looked down at Linnel, lying unconscious across the doorway.

  "Fine. Do you know who that is?" Moiri gestured to Linnel.

  "A sub-lieutenant in the Faldine Military, Vic Linnel. I'm not sure if he's resigned, or if he's still active. And he's not all that . . . reasonable when it comes to me." Hana's lips twisted.

  "He's obsessed," Iver's voice was flat. "He's after Hana for somehow surviving the war when his fiancé didn't, and he's working with the people who shot us down."

  "There's more than one motive going on here?" Moiri looked at them in astonishment.

  "I think there may even be more than one player." Hana stepped over Linnel's crumpled form.

  "What the hell is going on? And why now?" Moiri asked.

  Iver joined Hana in the passageway. "That's something we are going to try to find out.”

  Chapter 13

  The rain was blowing in thick, lazy sheets now instead of the misty stuff that had fallen before they went into the building.

  Hana bit her lip and glanced at Iver. His arm was still tight against his body, and his skin looked ashy in the uplights from the flower bed outside the back entrance.

  They stood under the narrow awning above the door and she realized she was swaying on her feet.

  Iver put his uninjured arm around her, hand cupping her shoulder, and pulled her closer. “We aren't going to find out anything unless we get some sleep.”

  She hesitated, second-guessing their decision to leave Moiri and go their own way. They didn't have anyone they could trust, and Iver was right, they needed a safe place to rest for a bit.

  “It was the right move.” Iver leaned back against the door, pulling her with him so she was slightly off-balance, resting against the length of his body. “We weren't safe there.”

  “You reading minds, now?” she asked, surprised she could smile.

  He gave a snort. “I wish.”

  She straightened,
looking at his arm. “You need a medkit at the very least, and the one I had is sitting in my pack in that warehouse.”

  “We'll buy another one, and hole up somewhere for a little bit.”

  That made as much sense as anything she could have come up with, and Hana knew neither of them could go on much longer.

  She closed her eyes and leaned back against Iver, putting her arms around him. They were dry, warm, and resting.

  It was hard to step out of the moment and force herself to move.

  With a groan, she pulled them both straight and slipped out from under his arm. “Banyon's friends are still wandering around out there, and Simon and Vannie are looking for us, too.” She stepped out from the shadows under the awning, face lifted against the icy needles of rain, and swept the area at the back of the building for any sign of danger.

  The moment she emerged, a man stepped out from the shadows of the next building, and in a sudden, blinding instant of clarity, she saw a SAL dart flying toward her.

  She shifted, instinctively lifting her hand and batting the dart away with the back of her fingers as it flew toward her face.

  Escape.

  The word seemed to reverberate in her skull.

  “Iver.” She shouted his name, because no other word would convey the urgency as well. She meant he should step back into the building. Get to safety.

  She felt his hand on her shoulder, pushing her down into a crouch as a second dart skimmed past.

  “Stay down.” Iver's shout came as he ran past her, and with a jerk of shock she realized there was a tight, thin line of pain along her shoulder.

  She looked up, in time to see Iver running straight for their shooter, who, in a sudden fit of panic, ran.

  Iver pulled up short as he disappeared around a corner. “He's spooked, but he'll be back.” Iver turned to her, rimmed in light from the nearby building, the rain glittering as it fell around him.

  She shook her head. She was losing her grip on reality.

  “Is that a lander?” Iver was frowning, looking at the narrow access road on the side of the building, and at last she heard it, too, the low rumble unmistakable.

  How had she missed it? Had she ever not heard something that close and clear since her upgrade?

  She lifted curled fingers to her shoulder, and they came away bloody.

  The SAL dart had grazed her.

  She wouldn't go down for long, but she would go down. Some of the tranquilizer was in her system.

  And they didn't have time for that.

  She ran toward the side of the building, but Iver got there first, so she was forced to crouch behind him as they peered around for a look.

  A lander, one that had a separate front cab and a sleek, enclosed rear compartment, was idling outside a side entrance, the door of which suddenly opened. A man ran to the driver's side but the light above the side entrance threw shadows across his face, rather than illuminating him.

  Hana managed to tap Iver's shoulder. “I think that's Banyon.”

  She tried to keep her eyes open as Banyon gesticulated in a heated conversation with the driver.

  “I thought I recognized his voice in the warehouse, but in the gloom, and only in profile, I can't say where I know him from. They don't look happy with each other.” Iver glanced at her, and then his eyes widened. “What's wrong?”

  She had slumped a little, she realized.

  “Just a scrape,” she managed to get out, waving a hand at her shoulder.

  “You were shot.” He pulled at her shirt, and then swore.

  She didn't have the energy to answer, and gave in to temptation and let her head rest against his arm.

  From somewhere nearby, she heard shouting, and a door being flung open.

  Iver swore again, low and vicious. Then nothing.

  Iver saw the spark of consciousness wink out of Hana's eyes, and then she went under.

  Not for long, if her recovery before on a full dose was any indication, but long enough that she was helpless.

  And he wasn't much better.

  She was resting on his uninjured side, and he maneuvered her so she was hanging over his shoulder.

  He stood slowly, amazed at how light she was. How insubstantial.

  She didn't seem that way when she was awake.

  Banyon had moved from the driver's side and had walked to the back of the lander, which looked like some kind of supply vehicle. He threw the back doors open, but his back was to Iver now, and Iver still hadn't managed to get a clear view of his face. He was a big man, although he was hunched over in the pounding rain.

  He was shouting at the driver, his full attention on what was in the back.

  Aware there was still a very real threat behind them, Iver looked back to where the shooter had been only minutes earlier.

  Their attacker hadn't expected to be attacked in turn, and he'd run in panic, but it wouldn't take long for him to calm down and realize he was the one with the SAL.

  And if he wasn't alone, he'd most likely find his friends and bring them along.

  The memory of Hana flicking a SAL dart away like an annoying insect flashed into his head, and he wondered if he had imagined that, or if it had really happened.

  Banyon's shouting suddenly cut off, and Iver looked around the corner again.

  Banyon had left the back of the lander open, and was back at the driver's door, leaning in and speaking in a low, intense tone.

  From behind him, Iver heard a shout and the pounding of feet, and suddenly out of options, exposed to anyone who stepped into the small area at the back of the building, he ducked into the narrow alleyway and headed for the open lander.

  His arm was on fire where it had been hit by the laz.

  He got a better grip on the back of Hana's legs, and started to move along the wall, keeping out of Banyon's line of sight.

  He heard another shout behind him, and the sound of the council building door slamming.

  The lander's doors were still open.

  It took only a few steps to reach them. Iver hesitated for a moment, but the sound of running from the small parking lot spurred him on. He eased inside, careful to distribute his weight evenly.

  He slid forward, each step as light as he could make it, until he reached the far back of the space and was able to squeeze behind a stack of crates.

  He felt the lander rock slightly from the front, as if the driver had jumped out.

  The rear doors were suddenly closed, plunging them into a thick gloom, and then the front rocked a little again, and the vehicle began to move.

  Iver stood, feet braced as the lander rocked him from side to side, wondering if he'd just made a massive mistake.

  They were out of the rain and no one knew where they were.

  But when those doors opened again, they'd have nowhere to run.

  Chapter 14

  Hana woke up slowly.

  There was no sense of danger, no quick, sudden leap of fear.

  Beneath her cheek she felt the rumble of an engine, and she registered that she was cocooned in warmth.

  She opened her eyes, found herself staring at a shadowy stack of crates, the light diffuse and coming from above. She turned slowly.

  Iver shifted, his arm curling around her to bring her closer to him so her head rested on his bicep, and she spent a moment looking up at him.

  A spike of hard, sweaty desire swept through her.

  She'd been attracted to him since she'd met him, but now . . . The change in their relationship was enough to give a girl vertigo.

  He smiled at her, and she did another free fall flip.

  “How long have I been out?” Her voice was rough and cracked.

  “Eight hours.” He lifted up, careful to ease her head down onto the blankets beneath them, and reached for a bottle of water.

  She took it gratefully, gulping down at least half of it.

  “Eight? But . . .”

  She stared at him blankly. She had barely been scraped by the
SAL.

  “I think you needed the sleep. Probably most of it was exhaustion.”

  She thought about it. Gave a nod. “We're in the lander?” she asked, handing the water back to him.

  He set it beside him, and lay back down with her, giving a quick nod.

  “And your arm?” She levered up on her elbow, lips tight, to check it.

  He held it out, the movement much easier than before.

  “There are about a hundred medkits in here. I found an advanced one and was able to repair the damage. Resting helped, too.”

  She flopped back in relief. “Do you know where we're going?”

  He shook his head, his expression more serious than she'd ever seen it. “No windows, only light vents at the top of the roof, so I haven't been able to look out, and as we've mainly been traveling in the dark, I haven't been able to see inside much, either. I've been second-guessing myself for getting us onboard almost since the doors closed.”

  She shook her head, but he held up a hand.

  “I know. You were unconscious, I was injured, and I could hear the shooter coming back with at least one other person. The doors were open, and I made a split-second decision. And still . . .”

  “If you hadn't, we might already be back in that warehouse. Or at the bottom of the river.”

  She didn't doubt that for a moment.

  She knew the hard way there were seldom perfect choices. You did the best with what you had.

  He gave a nod, but she wasn't sure he was completely convinced.

  “Thank you.” She leaned in close, brushed her lips against his.

  “Hold off on the thanks until we're sure we're going to get out of this.” His voice was a rumble against her throat as he nuzzled her just under her chin, and she didn't hide her shiver of delight. The last few days had been nothing but a fight for their lives. A relentless slog. And before that . . . she was very far from the pilot who'd signed up to help fight the Faldine War.

  For the moment she was safe and warm, with dawn breaking through the thin light vents above. She clutched what she had now tight, a moment as bright as sunlight.

  It was a rare feeling.

  Within her, her upgrade stirred in worry, and she found herself sending soothing reassurance. They, in and of themselves, didn't make her life worse. Had saved her life many times.