“I’m on it, Boss,” Munster said, as he headed aft of the cargo hold. He moved the Guardsman away from the group to the very back of the plane and strapped him in.
He sat down with machine gun on his lap, across from the Guardsman. The prisoner was going nowhere; he was strapped in and duct taped at his wrists and ankles in addition to being gagged and unconscious.
Up front, Dunston said, “How are we? What’s our heading?”
“Not great,” the pilot said. “My controls are sluggish. We may have taken some shrapnel in the rudder or stabilizer. Maybe both. If so, there is only so much maneuvering I can do. Unless something improves in the next forty-five minutes, I won’t be able to fly the corridor. There’s too much juking and bobbing."
The central corridor was the north-south route, running along the Mississippi River, which Angriff took to get to the poles. Pilots flew this plan on a routine basis, but it required skill and a responsive plane to avoid detection.
They had the pilot, Dunston knew, but if they didn’t have the plane...well, time for plan B. We may actually be on C or D, he told himself.
Regardless they would need to improvise, so he slipped over to Jones, “Check the cold weather gear. We may be taking the long way."
As Dunston headed aft, Jones gave him a look of concern but said nothing. He stood up and moved forward to the plane’s storage compartments. The long route would mean a lot of walking in cold conditions, and it was unlikely they would all make it. This many people together had no chance, and if they split into small enough groups to avoid company detection, they gave up their advantage of strength in numbers against Mother Nature.
Situations like these caused Jones to realize just how glad he was Dunston was in charge.
Jones wanted no part of command.
***
Several of the Angriff made preparations for an early landing. The medic bandaged up the Angriff Troopers who had been hit with shrapnel, while Jones sorted through the gear and rations.
They had a journey ahead of them, and they would need water and food after landing, and parkas soon enough. After a few minutes discussion with Dunston, Jones enlisted the help of two Angriff and passed out parkas, beginning with their visitors.
“Where’d the German come from?” Emily asked as Jones handed her a parka. He was concentrating on the task at hand.
“What?”
“The German,” she said, “Angriff is German for attack or offensive or something, right? Who speaks German? Where did the name for the soldiers come from?”
“Me,” he said, as he continued preparations. “I have German heritage and unlike most folks, I have hung on to mine.”
Then he stopped and added with a quizzical look, “Können sie Deutsche sprechen?” (Do you speak German?)
“Ja,” replied Emily, ”ich habe für eine kurze Zeit untersucht.” (Yes, I have studied for a short time.)
Jones smiled, pleased to hear his native tongue spoken outside his own family.
“Sehr gut! Wir werden in Kürze auf Deutsch sprechen!” (Very good! We will talk in German soon!)
“Sehr gut!” Emily smiled, and Jones moved on distributing gear. She glanced up and saw Joniver glaring at her as if he was trying to read her mind.
He did not know a word of German, but he understood very well what had just been communicated by Jones. He didn’t like the guy anyway, and the whole I’m-a-cute-German play for Emily was disgusting.
He knew she spoke or at least read German. Several weeks ago, they read a banned book together, with Emily doing all the reading and translating. The book was called, Mein Kampf. It had been written by an Austrian named Hitler in the 20th century who, Joniver concluded, wanted to rule the world.
This book, along with others Joniver read, left him feeling like Hitler was a Crazy. They also made him question why Hunter and the company would ban Mein Kampf. After spending 20 minutes with Hunter, Joniver felt the guy could be the reincarnation of Hitler - without the mustache, of course.
He thought of reading about other leaders who set out to conquer the world like Napoleon and Alexander the Great. The difference was he thought those guys were military leaders and expert tacticians. Hitler proved to be an empty suit, and this too, he thought was just like Hunter.
Joniver enjoyed reading Mein Kampf with Emily and their discussion afterward. He did not like the idea of Jones spending any time with her.
She looked back at him, “What?”
Joniver shook his head, and then in a mocking tone, “Ja, Ja, Ja… I like speaking German, Mr. Soldier Man!” He shook his shoulders back and forth, as if imitating a flirtatious little girl.
Emily stopped smiling and sat staring at Joniver. What was he thinking? He never so much as asked me to do anything remotely romantic. He wouldn’t even ask me to go for a walk.
When I’m not around though, he becomes some kind of courageous, defiant superman determined to save me and protect me. What he said back in Hunter’s office! He takes my breath away and then in just a few minutes, he mocks me.
“I’m not going to fight with you Joniver,” she said. “I wish I knew why it bothers you I talked with him. You know speaking another language is fun!”
“Whatever,” he said, with a pout in his voice.
This put her over the edge, and her anger and frustration boiled. “Oh whatever, my ass!” She grabbed his arm, trying not to draw undue attention. “What is wrong? Tell me!”
“Emily,” Joniver jerked back, staring at her with eyes wide and mouth agape. She had never talked to him like this, and it took him aback, “Emily...I, uh…”
“Yes?” Emily said.
“I…” then he dropped his head. “This isn’t the place for this.”
She slumped in her seat and turned her head away. She determined not to cry, but at this moment, she could become teary at the least provocation. She sat motionless and regained control of her emotions. “No,” she said, turning back toward him. “You’re right.”
“I am sorry about what happened earlier tonight - at your flat,” he said.
The fight seemed days ago, so much had happened since they had fought. The scene was a distant memory and one they both would rather forget. All the emotion of their fight charged into the moment, like race horses released at the starting gate. Their current circumstances seemed like a reenactment, and neither of them liked the feeling.
“Are you?” Emily asked.
“Yes!”
“Then you’ve got to talk to me and tell me why it bothers you. We’ve got to talk,” Emily’s voice was quiet, almost pleading. “Joniver, I need to know where your head is. Where is this going?”
“I will. We will. We will talk.”
He was pretty sure he almost meant it, too.
***
A sudden jolt in the aircraft and shouts from the cockpit sent Dunston running forward. Soon they heard, “Jones!” and he was off like he had been shot from a cannon.
The pilot and Dunston stood in the cockpit doorway talking with Jones, who was simply shaking his head. Dunston asked another question, and Jones shook his head again. The pilot asked something and Jones shook his head. The meeting did not look good.
Joniver stood up and wobbly walked toward the front. There was another jolt. The airplane rocked, and Joniver heard fluctuation in the mechanical rhythm of the engines. Dunston looked toward the back and saw Joniver approaching but ignored him.
Joniver moved close enough to hear their discussion. He did not understand all the technical language, but he knew enough to understand there was an issue with the computer systems flying the plane. This, coupled with the rudder damage, was forcing the aircraft to bleed altitude much too fast. However, the plane’s rudder damage could just be a computer system problem and not physical damage to the structure itself.
“There is no way I can read the source code fast enough to find the bad line that needs changing,” Jones said.
“You mean they put a virus in the plane
’s systems?” Dunston asked.
“Sort of,” Jones replied. “They somehow loaded source code into the plane’s system controller and are dictating where we land. It’s not so much a virus as new controller programming. To fix it, I need to get to the correct code line, write over it and reboot the controller.”
“How long?” Dunston asked.
“If I knew where the line of code was, about two minutes.”
“How can we find the code?”
“You have to read each line and find the insertion. There are about 23,000 lines of code. It can’t be done.”
“What are you looking for in the code?” Joniver leaned in and asked.
Jones paused, thinking this useless, but he continued. “There is a five word string that will be obvious it does not belong. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“I can read it,” Joniver said.
By this time Emily walked up. She heard the explanation and said, “Joniver can read many times faster than any of us. Let him try."
Dunston looked at Jones and then the pilot. “What happens if we don’t try?”
“We land in the river,” the pilot said. “That is, if we aren’t shot down first. Either way we die.”
Dunston motioned to Jones, “Do it.”
This Blueberry better have another surprise up his sleeve, Dunston thought.
Jones motioned to Joniver, and he, along with Emily, followed. Jones opened a floor panel and went down. He motioned for Joniver to descend the ladder as well, but told Emily to stay on the deck, “There isn’t room!” he shouted over the noise. There actually was room, but Jones did not want the added distraction.
There was another jolt.
The plane’s structure ached and screamed with the jostling and vibration, as if steel were being ripped. The sound was uncomfortable and eerie.
Jones lowered a screen from a side panel and tapped the keys, soon lines of source code were visible on the screen.
“Joniver, you are looking for - I’m guessing - a five character set that does not belong. The string will be different, like letters in a string of numbers or vice versa.”
Joniver nodded and put his hand on the scroll down sensor. He pushed and the lines of code whirred by.
Jones could not even see there were individual lines. This was pointless, he told himself. The Blueberry is faking it.
After about thirty seconds, Jones did some quick calculation. Based on what he knew about the screen refresh rate, Joniver was seeing about fourteen thousand lines per minute. At this rate, it would take Blueberry about three-
“Got it,” Joniver said. He scrolled back to the line marked 20,423, and showed it to Jones.
“Is this it?” Joniver pointed at the screen.
“Ho-oh-ly shit!” Jones said. “That’s it”
He pushed Joniver from the keypad, and pecked at keys in quick succession, replacing the line with one he had stored on a piece of paper in his pocket.
Joniver thought the paper was a surprisingly low-tech way of fixing the issue, but said nothing.
Jones completed the entry and sequenced the machine for reboot.
Another jolt and now anti-aircraft battery fire.
“SAMs” Jones said.
Jones and Joniver emerged back on the deck. In all they had been below ninety seconds.
Jones yelled to the cockpit as he pulled up to the deck, “Controller’s rebooting. We’ll need to wait about twenty more seconds.”
The gunfire continued, but the jolting, which had felt like it would rip the plane in two pieces, had stopped.
Those twenty seconds proved to be an interminably long time. Explosions outside the plane increased in frequency and intensity, and the plane fell faster and faster. Joniver felt his ears popping and his stomach seemed to push up into his throat.
What was taking so long? Had he not seen the correct code? He knew what he had read, and he knew enough about computer code to know what Jones had done looked right.
What was the problem?
“Jones!” Dunston called.
“Give it a second, Boss! We’re almost there!”
Explosions filled the air, creeping closer and closer. More shrapnel ripped the fuselage and flew through the cabin. Two Angriff troopers, each across from the other, called out and slumped over.
Fear swelled in Joniver. Fear oozing out his pores like mucous. “Where’s Emily?”
He turned and saw her buckled in her seat. She was crying, but she looked ok.
He made his way toward her. He would not die without her, and he would not let her die without at least trying to save her. Over the protests of Dunston and the other Angriff Troopers, Joniver worked his way back.
His walk to the back took four seconds, but it seemed forever.
Emily was strapped in her jump seat, but he grabbed her as best he could covering her with his body, and pulling her close. She reached down and unbuckled her seat belt, so she could get her arms around him. He knelt as they embraced, and her tears stained his cheek.
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear. He kissed her cheek, tasting her tears and the grit of the air in the plane.
Emily’s world stopped, or whirred, she was not sure which. She was too shocked and too scared to say anything. She clung to Joniver as tightly as she knew how.
She felt it strange. She was terrified and knew they were about to die, but with those words, he had made it ok. She realized in that moment, she did not want the moment to end. Even with the terror, she had all she had ever wanted. The tears flowed in greater volume, but they were now droplets filled with inexpressible joy and not fear.
There was one more explosion, and the plane rocked and yawed. The horrible sound of stressed metal and failing engines filled the air.
We’re not going to make it, Joniver thought. He turned to Emily. I will die looking at her.
Then a call from the cockpit, “Got it! Heading up!”
The plane jerked up, as if it were pulled straight up by a rope. Joniver thought for a moment they were hit again, but soon the explosions faded. The pilot was back in control of the airplane.
He released his hold on Emily. She sat and looked at him, still crying.
“Everything’s going to be ok,” he said.
“Everything is now,” she said, those three words popping in her head like cherry blossoms in spring.
How was it, those three words spoken in the correct order at the right time could have so much power? Emily had never felt such power from anything in all her life, and she was overcome with emotions she could not even take stock of right now.
“This is absolutely awesome,” she said.
Just then Jones ran up, slapped Joniver on shoulder, “Man, you are a life-saver!"
He meant it.
Dunston walked back to him, and just stared. Joniver didn’t move.
“I don’t know what you did, but Jones says we would have died without you,” he said.
“He saved our fucking lives, that’s what he did!” Jones said, tension being released with his language. He looked at Emily, “Sorry,” he said.
She just nodded.
Jones stuck both hands in the air. “Whooo-eee!"
He turned toward the front of the plane, smiling so broadly he could have eaten a banana sideways.
“He saved us,” Joniver said pointing at Jones, “I just was able to spot where the problem was, that’s all.”
“Thank you,” Dunston said, and he extended his hand. Joniver looked at it, then looked at Dunston, and then shook it.
Blueberry may not be a Blueberry after all, Dunston thought.
“Jones!” he shouted, “Jones, I want to know how the hell someone got some piece of crap software on my plane’s control system, and I want to know by the time we land!”
They were flying at a safe altitude, and Joniver looked back at Emily, unable to take his eyes off her. She was beaming a smile, the like of which he had never seen.
She is a
bsolutely radiant, he thought.
As the plane moved forward, heading for their safe destination, Joniver and Emily sat next to one another, their hands clasped together and her head resting on his shoulder.
“Everything’s going to be ok,” he said.
He was tempted to believe the world was as it should be.
Chapter 13
The short squat, balding man of 50 in an oversized parka and unbuckled snowshoes walked into the giant warehouse-looking room and announced himself.
“My name is Reyes, ladies and gentlemen. I will be getting each of you ready for the next stage of your journey. If you listen to me and do exactly as I tell you, you will make it to the North and enjoy the warmth there. If you do not listen to me, you will probably die.” He paused, looked down then back up for effect and in a softer tone, “There is no probably about it. You will die.”
“I know some of you have been North before, but at least a dozen of you have not, and you have a prisoner who has not. I don’t care if you’ve been a million times, you will go through this training again.
“I will get you there, but you must listen. I don’t care who you are, you do not outrank me or know more than me up here. Are we clear?”
Nods all around.
“I asked if we were clear!”
“Sir, yes, sir,” the Angriff troopers shouted in unison.
Joniver looked at Emily, who just stared back at him. They shared the same thought, “What the heck have we gotten ourselves in to?”
***
Once the controller leveled out, three hours passed before the plane landed in what Joniver thought was the most desolate place he had ever seen. At first the landscape was beautiful and the frigid air refreshing. He nor Emily had seen snow and their first sight of it was exciting.
However as they stood outside the plane looking at the snow drifts in every direction, as far as the eye could see, the feeling of landing on an alien planet crept over them both.
Jones saw their looks, walked up beside Emily and said, “It’s going to get worse. Not trying to be a downer, just want you to be prepared.”
Dunston was right behind Jones and looked straight at Joniver when he said, “It will be worth it, trust me, especially for you!” he pointed at Joniver and smiled as he walked away.
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