by Linn Schwab
“I would strongly suggest to all of you,” she said, “that you spend your few remaining hours here outside. It may be the last time you ever get to breathe fresh air.” She paused, and lowered her eyes in regret. “Dismissed,” she said, then turned and slowly walked out of the room.
The girls remained standing in their positions for a moment, still reeling from Commander Phillips’ announcement. One by one, they began to turn around and walk in silence toward the row of duffel bags. Robin searched for the bag with her name on it. When she found it and bent down to pick it up, Christy walked over and stood beside her.
“Robin?” Christy asked, her voice filled with uncertainty. “Do you know what Volaris is?”
Robin looked at her and nodded. “It’s a training base for fighter pilots.” Christy stared at her for a moment, then turned and walked out of the room in a daze. Robin took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then followed her companions out through the door. She only had a few hours remaining now, and she was determined to follow the commander’s suggestion.
Commander Phillips sat quietly at the desk in her office, staring at a map on the opposite wall. The map contained a diagram of ECHO complex, showing the locations of all of its facilities — the nursery, the academy, the air strip, the warehouses. Everything that made it a functional entity. Beside it was a complete list of all the academies, with a map showing their various locations on the planet: ALPHA, BRAVO, CHARLIE, DELTA, ECHO, FOXTROT … the list went on. Together, the scattering of military complexes turned out thousands of squads every year. Yet as fast as they could prepare these girls for service, the fleet continued to call them away. It was a cycle that repeated itself without end, and as long as the struggle in space persisted, this cycle was destined to continue as well.
Someone knocked at the commander’s door. Major Starks was peering in from the corridor.
“Come in, Major,” the commander told her.
“You don’t look very happy,” Major Starks observed. “Is there something troubling you?”
The commander frowned. “No more than usual, I guess. I just hate sentencing girls to death like that. I cringe whenever I get a call from Volaris, or any of the other fighter bases for that matter.”
“Why?” Major Starks inquired. “Why are they any different from the others?”
“Why?” the commander responded in surprise. “You do realize, don’t you, that the very worst thing I can do for these girls is to sign them up for fighter pilot training.”
“You shouldn’t let that bother you, Commander. Given their choice of assignments, some of them would’ve probably chosen fighter pilot anyway. And there is a certain amount of pride associated with being selected for that position.”
“That’s hardly a reassuring thought, Major. They’re young and unaware of the harsh reality. Fighter pilots die at a much faster rate than any other position in Sentinel service.”
“Someone has to do it,” the major argued. “Fighters are a necessary part of our forces. These girls are no different from any of the rest of us. All of them would surrender their lives for Valhalla.”
“I know,” the commander said in reflection. “But is it right for us to expect them to do so?”
It was a beautiful, warm sunny day outside — so much like another day of transition Robin remembered. She and the other members of her squad had decided to spend their few remaining hours relaxing along the edge of the ocean. As she sat down at the end of one of the old wooden piers, she felt a mild sense of rapture as its sun–warmed surface touched her skin. A pleasant breeze rolled in off the ocean, and gentle waves lapped at the pylons below her. As the girls of ECHO 5 gazed into the water, a group of dolphins gathered nearby.
Robin smiled and gently cocked her head as one of the dolphins beckoned to her. “I’m sorry, Jojo,” she explained, “we can’t come in for a swim today. We just came down to say goodbye.” The dolphin seemed to express sadness as it stuttered and allowed its eyelids to droop.
Sheri scooted closer to Robin. “Do you think she understands?” she asked.
Robin responded with a thoughtful nod. “Jojo’s been around for a while. And we’re not the first squad to go through this.” She looked up and gazed out over the horizon, reflecting on how much this moment meant to her. She was going to miss the ocean more than anything else. It had always been special to her, and now it seemed even more precious than ever. If not for the war that demanded her presence, she would have devoted her life to the ocean, and studying the creatures that lived in its waters. Marine Biologist. That was the term she had learned from the archives. If only circumstances would have been more forgiving, then she could have been a marine biologist.
As Sheri flirted with some of the dolphins, Robin watched her with affection. She’s dreaming again, Robin realized, as Sheri softly hummed to herself. She could see by the carefree look in Sheri’s eyes that her thoughts were somewhat removed from the squad’s impending evening departure. How does she do that? she wondered in envy, wishing her own thoughts could drift along with Sheri’s. It was something she’d noticed many times in the past, and still found to be a little perplexing. How can she just detach herself from reality like that? It just seems to happen so easily for her.
She remembered a problem her squad had worked on together. Something to do with gravitational fields. While Robin and the others were discussing an equation, Sheri had probed the ramifications of the question. “Robin,” she had asked, “do you suppose the effects of gravitational shifts are instantaneous throughout the universe? Or does it take longer for them to influence far away objects?” Her question had done little to help solve the problem, but it was a perfect example of Sheri’s wandering thoughts. She was a dreamer. There was little doubt about that. And Robin found herself wondering what Sheri was dreaming about right now.
Her thoughts suddenly shifted to Mindy. Mindy, she wondered, how are you handling this? I know this has to be difficult for you. She studied Mindy’s face for a moment and recalled the first time she’d seen her cry. Our first night at the academy, she remembered. I had to put my arms around you and nuzzle your head underneath my chin. I can still feel your tears at the base of my neck. Robin smiled as she reminisced. That moment will always have special meaning for me. And no one could ever take your place in my heart. For the moment, Mindy appeared to be fine. But it was sometimes difficult to tell with her. She had a tendency to allow things to build up inside her and break down into tears when she felt insecure. And if there was one thing Robin had learned about Mindy, it was that practically anything could make her feel insecure.
And what about you, Caroline? Robin wondered. Do I even need to be concerned about you? Caroline appeared to be very composed. She had always seemed a little more mature than the others, but even she could get emotional at times. There was an unspoken bond between Robin and Caroline — something that none of the others were aware of. We’re so alike, Caroline, Robin thought, that I can almost always sense what you’re thinking. And I can sense when you know what I’m thinking as well. It’s almost as if we can read each other’s minds. Can you sense that I’m thinking about you right now?
Phoebe was sitting next to Caroline, gazing out over the ocean’s waves. What will you miss the most, Phoebe? Robin wondered. Do you love the ocean as much as I do? Is that what you’re thinking about right now? Or are you looking forward to going into space? You’re easily the most adventurous girl in our squad — always the first to seek new horizons. Perhaps you’re more ready than the rest of us are. Maybe they should have made you the captain.
Michelle seemed to be fine as well. She was one of the brightest girls in the squad, and sometimes she could be very independent. Occasionally, she would seek Robin’s comfort, but she usually didn’t get emotional until she was tired. I’ll have to keep an eye on her, Robin thought. I have the feeling this is going to be a very long day.
Robin’s eyes finally moved to Katrina, who seemed to be very quiet at the mom
ent. She’s usually so talkative, Robin thought. I almost feel lonely not hearing her voice. I hope this change doesn’t affect her permanently. We’re going to need her sense of humor — her ability to make light of adverse situations. Why haven’t you joked about this yet, Katrina? You’re such an optimist. What’s happened to the girl who makes all of us smile? Is this too overwhelming even for you?
“Robin,” Sheri asked, interrupting her thoughts, “do you think they’ll let us come back and visit?”
Robin frowned and gazed down at the water. She wanted to say yes — to tell her girls they could return someday. But somehow she sensed it would never happen. We’ve never seen girls return before, she realized. Once they leave, they never come back. She finally glanced up. All of her girls were looking at her, waiting expectantly for her to answer Sheri’s question. Some of them already know, she decided. Michelle and Caroline. I can see it in their eyes. They know how to figure things out for themselves. But the others… They just want something to hope for. What am I supposed to tell them?
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe. Someday.” She looked anxiously at Michelle and Caroline, hoping neither of them would say anything. Both of them had tears forming in their eyes, but they seemed to understand what Robin was doing and struggled to keep their emotions in check. Robin sighed in relief. I have to keep things together, she thought. At least until we’re all on the shuttle.
“It isn’t fair,” Michelle complained. “They promised us we’d have until we turn seventeen. Why do we have to leave four years early? They could have taken some of the older girls instead.”
“I don’t know,” Robin answered her. “Maybe it’s just different for us because they want us to be fighter pilots. Let’s just try to enjoy the time we have left, okay? There’s nothing we can do about it now anyway.”
Mindy kept glancing toward the forest, as if she was secretly contemplating something. Robin knew exactly what she was thinking; it was something she’d also considered herself. It was tempting to think about running away from this. Living out the rest of their lives in the forest. She was certain all of them had thought about it at some point. And there was nothing to prevent them from attempting it, really. But surviving in the forest wouldn’t be easy, and they were all smart enough to realize that, despite what they’d once wanted to believe about JoEllen. And to do so would mean shirking their duty to Valhalla. Something none of them would be able to bring themselves to do. Not even Mindy. Robin was absolutely certain of that.
The girls spent their few remaining hours on the pier, reminiscing and watching the dolphins play. When the time of their liftoff began to draw near, they reluctantly stood up and walked toward the air strip. Looking back once more from the top of a sand dune, they saw one of the dolphins make a spectacular leap, soaring up and over the end of the pier, then touching down again with scarcely a splash. “Goodbye, Jojo,” they whispered and waved, before somberly trudging down the far side of the dune.
The path to the air strip became moistened with their tears, as did everything of beauty that appeared along the way. Never again would they feel the grass beneath their feet, or smell the fresh scent of the ocean air. Never again would they feel the sun shining down on them, or touch the silky smoothness of a wildflower petal. All of those experiences would be denied to them, now that they were being sent into space.
As Robin stepped onto the edge of the runway, she paused for a moment and gazed up into the sky, taking in one of her final views from Valhalla. Wispy white clouds peacefully rolled across the heavens, against a blue background that seemed deeper and more beautiful then ever. And somewhere up above that beautiful shade of blue was a lifeless void where she would likely spend the rest of eternity.
VOLARIS 009
The shuttle was prepped and waiting on the air strip, resting horizontally on its massive landing gear. With pressurized vapors escaping from its engines, it seemed eager to lunge forward and race down the runway. At the base of the shuttle’s boarding ramp, the 2nd Battalion stood close together, waiting for instructions from the shuttle’s flight crew. As soon as the preflight inspection was complete, a woman appeared at the upper end of the ramp and motioned for the girls to ascend.
“Here we go,” Robin said, tentatively placing her foot on the ramp’s threshold. As she worked her way up the stairs of the boarding ramp, she felt a slight sense of anticipation. She had never before ridden in any kind of vehicle, and now she was preparing to blast off for the stars. What is this going to feel like? she wondered, trying to imagine what the shuttle’s capabilities might be. Up until now, flying had only been an abstraction for her, represented only by her knowledge of math and science. All of that was going to change for her now. Her perceptions would be altered by the actual experience.
The shuttle’s cabin jostled and bounced as the girls filed inside and slid into their seats. A general feeling of acceptance began to take hold as each girl came to terms with her fate. They were still saddened by the thought of leaving Valhalla. Nothing could erase that feeling from their hearts. But they also felt an obligation to do their part — to assume the responsibilities they’d all been groomed for, and help safeguard the world they so dearly cherished.
Robin tossed her duffel bag under her seat and fastened her safety restraints around herself. Sheri and Mindy took the seats to her sides, and Christy slid into the next row in front of her. The shuttle’s flight crew remained mostly out of sight, isolated in the cockpit near the front of the craft. There were no windows at all in the cabin, just a row of video screens at the front of the compartment, displaying different views from external cameras. A few small lights were mounted overhead on the ceiling, but for the most part the cabin was not very well lit.
“You know what this means,” Christy said, looking over the back of her seat at Robin.
Robin grinned. She knew exactly what Christy was thinking, even though she felt the chances of it happening were slim. “We’re all going to be Hornets,” she replied.
Christy flashed her an emphatic thumbs up.
“What are Hornets?” Sheri asked.
“Elite fighter pilots,” Robin explained. “They’re the best pilots in the Sentinel Fleet.”
“That’s right,” Christy said. “Once you make Hornet you’re invincible, Sheri.”
Robin smiled and shook her head in resignation. “Or so Christy says,” she said with skepticism.
“It’s true,” Christy argued. “You’ll see,” she said to Sheri. “We’re gonna kick those jokers’ behinds and send them whimpering back to their own world!” With that, she turned back around and repeated the conversation with another girl in front of her.
Sheri thought in silence for a moment, then timidly tried to get Robin’s attention. “Robin,” she whispered, “you really think we’ll be Hornets someday?”
Robin flashed her a confident smile. “Positive!” she confirmed with an exaggerated nod. Sheri gazed at Robin in wonder, her thoughts suddenly filled with possibilities. If what Christy said was actually true, then perhaps the future still held hope for them after all.
The shuttle’s engines flared to life, causing the entire cabin to vibrate. Robin looked around in anticipation, waiting anxiously for the powerful thrusters to engage. Glancing to her right, she noticed Mindy was trembling in fear. She was straining to keep both of her eyes shut, and her hands were clenched firmly onto the arm rests.
“Mindy, are you okay?” Robin whispered. Mindy opened her eyes and squinted in anguish. Robin reached over and held her hand, and tried to calm her with a reassuring smile. Mindy relaxed for a fraction of a second, then the shuttle’s main thrusters engaged without warning, pushing them both against the backs of their seats.
Robin felt pummeled by the sudden force of acceleration. The event was so violent it pushed most of the air from her lungs. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. As the shuttle pulled up and soared into the sky, she tingled with the dizzying sensations of flight. T
he shuttle’s engines put out a deafening roar, and every last piece of hardware in the cabin seemed to shake loose and start rattling.
Forcing its way up through the planet’s atmosphere, the shuttle was rocked and buffeted by turbulence. At times, the shaking became so violent that Robin feared the cabin would thrash itself to pieces. After a few minutes, the shaking and rattling subsided, and the noise from the engines began to taper off. The air was growing thinner near the atmosphere’s outer reaches where its effects on the shuttle were minimized.
“Mindy,” Robin softly whispered as their transport eased into the tranquility of space, “are you still with me?”
Mindy hesitantly opened her eyes and took a deep breath as she tried to relax. The most intense portion of the journey was over. The remainder of the flight should be peaceful and smooth.
One of the screens at the front of the cabin displayed a live picture of the planet below. The girls all marveled at the beauty of Valhalla, watching in silence until it drifted out of frame. Once again, they felt pangs of sadness in their hearts. The sound of muffled sniffles broke through the silence.
As Robin studied the empty gaze in Mindy’s eyes, she thought of something that might ease everyone’s suffering. There was a song that all of them had learned in the nursery — a song meant to remind them of Valhalla’s beginnings. It was based on another song that was stored in the archives, but whose words made little sense to her. “Sing this song whenever you’re sad,” one of the nurses had told her, “and it will help you feel better again.” Hopeful that some of the other girls would sing along with her, Robin closed her eyes and struggled to get the first few words out:
When the stars, are in the sky,
a tiny glimmer, may catch your eye.
To Robin’s surprise, several of the others quickly joined in:
It’s the world, where life began,
a distant planet, the home of man.
