Not strong enough.
She shook as the plane raced down the runway. The back door whined and started moving again.
Have to let go. Can’t let go.
She yanked with all the adrenaline-juiced power she had left and hooked her right arm into the cabin. The door moved to final shutdown, and the plane picked up pace. More blowing snow and ice lashed her skin. The wind froze her fingers, made it harder to hold. Her grip started to slip.
Last chance.
Her shoulders screamed, and her hands lost feeling, but she yanked again. Another pull, and she hoisted her torso over the edge and slid down the incline-face first.
The door snapped shut behind her.
She landed on the metal floor on her elbows between two big boxes. A sliver of pain ran up her arms. A tad damaged, but she’d made it.
Ionia quietly panted and rubbed her aching muscles. Step three, get on Cam’s plane. Check.
Half-hidden by the quad of passenger chairs in the front of the cabin, Cam’s curly head remained facing forward in the cockpit. The engine roar must have hidden the ker-thunk of Ionia’s fall.
The wall of boxes in the hold blocked most of the dim light coming from the cockpit. Ionia duckwalked forward and settled against a roll of bubble wrap packaging, keeping a watch for any movement from the front.
The force of takeoff pressed against Ionia’s face. Her stomach flipped, and she grabbed onto a handhold. She usually loved flying, but being in the back in the cargo, hiding and freezing her assets off, well that was different.
The rear of the plane held barely enough heat to keep the cargo from damage and nowhere near enough for her comfort. Her breath puffed out in a cloud, and the coat did little to warm her, but it was better than traveling overland or on a blazer. Within an hour, it would warm as the engine heated, but now it was bitter.
She crawled through the maze of boxes destined for CONUS, searching for the one that contained Den. The one the size of a coffin.
The plane reached cruising altitude, and Ionia heard Cam talking on the radio. The sound of her voice, but not the words, reached Ionia. Cam was distracted. Good. She needed time to find her droid. She crawled over to a Den shaped box. For him to be boxed up was weird. He’d become too human to be locked in a container. She had the strange thought of him clawing on the inside, trying to get out, confused and a prisoner.
He needed to be free of the packing, and she’d definitely need his help when they hit Mac Town.
Sledgehammers and crowbars hung from the port sidewall. Ionia snagged a crowbar, praying Cam’s attention was fully on the flying. Slowly, carefully, so as not to make any noise, she popped open the crate. The seal opened much easier than the factory packaging had back at the station. They were out of Cam’s eye line, but Ionia kept her head down anyway.
She hoped her mom hadn’t rebooted him, destroying his DLs. She liked the way he was sweet, curious, sincere.
The lid fell back. He lay in the open crate, looking like he was sleeping again, this time a forced hibernation. A well of happiness opened inside her chest filled with warm, fuzzy, huggy feelings. He was here, and he was with her. Weird how much she’d come to count on him in such a short time. But what if he didn’t remember her? What if her mom had reset him? Her stomach did the clench thing it did when she was stressed.
Only one way to find out. She pressed his arm panel and clicked the blue lever. A sharp intake of breath and his face twisted as if in pain. His eyes flipped open and settled on her.
With a soft sigh, his face smoothed. “Ionia,” he whispered.
The way he said it made cool shivers sprinkle down her back. The tight knot of muscles in her back released.
He remembered her.
Her heart seemed to start beating again. “Den.” She smiled down at him and put one finger to her mouth then pointed toward the cockpit, hoping he would catch on. He climbed from the carton, crouched next to her, and pulled her into a loose hug. “I apologize, Ionia.” He kept his tone soft and his mouth near her ear.
“For what?” she whispered back.
“Your mother. She knew how to deactivate me, and you had commanded me to listen to her.” His brow furrowed, and his intense gaze begged for forgiveness.
“Den.” She laughed softly. “You couldn’t help it.”
They parted. His shoulders lowered, and he inspected the bay. “We are traveling 7924 meters above ground level at 250 knots. This is a cargo plane. Are we currently safe? I sense your vitals are elevated.”
“I’m okay. We are going to Mac Town, my old home.”
He nodded and rubbed his fingers over his mouth. “This is the location of the party you desired to attend.”
“Yes.” She might get to go. Why not? Runaways went to parties, didn’t they? Runaways with their own NAR equipped defense droid did. She grinned. “It’s going to be the most sanguine party, and I’m going to have the best time--”
“Stand up and put your hands in the air.” Cam’s voice had the deep growl of a dog whose bone is threatened.
Ionia tensed. Damn. Cam had found them. Ionia stood in the shadow, and Den right next to her.
He couldn’t go into bodyguard mode, not on a plane. Too dangerous.
“I told you before, once a job is done. I am out. You all should have gotten off. Oh you’re not... What are you doing here?” Cam brows crunched and her lips pursed as if she had expected someone else.
“Den, do as she says.” Ionia stood up and placed her hands in the air. Den followed but didn’t raise his hands.
“Put your hands up.” She pointed the laser gun at Den.
Den placidly put his hands in the air. None of the NAR-attack twitchiness.
Ionia braced for total droid meltdown and possible plane crash, but nothing happened. Was he broken after the reboot? This is the part where he was supposed to go all Kung Fu master, but he remained still.
“Ionia?” Cam grunted, her mouth open, her eyes on Den. “Who is that with you?” She raised the weapon again, and the tiny hairs on the back on Ionia’s neck bristled. She crowded in front of Den in case Cam got target happy.
“No need to fear, Ionia. The gun is not loaded.”
Cam’s full attention rested on Den, “How do you know that?”
“I have short range scanning capabilities. The pilot is not a threat.”
“I’m gonna show you who’s a threat you bleedin’ stowaway--”
“Wait! Wait, Cam, this is my droid, Den. The one my mother was trying to return to CONUS, remember?”
“The sex bot?”
“Companion,” said Ionia and Den together.
Cam arched an eyebrow as if to say give-me-one-good-reason-to-shoot-you-droid but holstered her gun. “Ionia, I love you, pet, but I do not take kindly to extra passengers without proper invites.”
“Who is flying the plane?” Ionia finally had to ask. She didn’t want to crash into a mountain or an iceberg or an iceberg that was the size of a mountain.
“Autopilot. When I heard voices that weren’t on the radio, I panicked. Sorry about the gun. I hate’em but, necessary in the Wilds.”
Most of Mac Town wasn’t bad. They had a constable and some deputies, but when they got out into the Pole area that was controlled by the miners, oilers, or the NAR, it could get dicey. And Cam delivered to anyone who could pay. “Sit up front with me.” One side of her mouth quirked up, and she half shrugged. “Your droid can too, I suppose.”
“I’ll come up. Den you can sit there. Behind me.”
“As long as you are out of immediate danger.”
“I am.” She patted his forearm, moved to the front, and plunked down in the copilot seat and he followed.
The night was dark, or morning, hard to tell, but there seemed to be a lightning on the horizon.
Cam took the controls in hand and cut a glance at Ionia, both eyebrows raised, waiting.
“I ran away. Can you blame me?”
Cam looked straight out the window, an
d her thick lips rolled in then out again.
“No, not really. But you know I have to tell your mother where you are when we hit Mac Town.” Cam’s words stung. Ionia had always thought of Cam as a friend, a kind of surrogate big sister.
“Why?”
“Because she will be worried about you.” She scooted to the front of her seat and choked up on her grip on the controls. “I should probably send a message now.”
“First off, she’s not worried about me. You did catch the house of drama starring Anabel Sonberg.”
“She didn’t mean-”
“Yes, she did. At least let me visit with my friend. I promise I will contact my mom from there.”
“I can’t let you wander the streets by yourself.”
“I won’t be by myself. I have Den. I also have friends who invited me to visit. I will call my mom after we’ve both calmed down.”
“You don’t understand how it is with mothers. I’m sure she was just frustrated,” Cam said.
“It’s you who doesn’t understand. She hates having me there. I’m a worthless nuisance. What kind of mother would say those things? And in front of everyone?” Cam paused and let go of a long sigh.
“Please?” Ionia elongated the word and brought her hands into praying position.
Cam’s mouth twisted again. “I suppose...if you promise.”
“I do, I do.” Not promise.
“I’ve seen some of those droids in action. You should be safe. But I will be calling you within the next day to make sure you are all square. Understand?” Ionia nodded so hard her head ached. Cam was always, always the heat.
They sat in silence for a while. Ionia slumped back in the copilot chair and watched the scenery: black, white, jagged white, more black.
Nothing but the stark landscape. Outside the window, the endless white was broken by the pointed teeth of the white walls of mountain. They would be in Mac Town soon with the backup jets giving them an extra boost in airspeed. Cam must have a time-sensitive delivery to use so much energy.
She glanced over at Cam, flipping buttons and checking screens in smooth and practiced ways.
“Why did you decide to be a pilot?”
“I wanted to see the world.”
“Come on Cam, it had to be more than that. Because this scenery is pretty and all, but you could make a ton more working the continent for the NAR and not have to deal with half the year in darkness.”
“Have you seen the valleys since they started thawing? Or the mountains when the light hits them? It’s beautiful.”
“It’s also boring and dangerous. Half the world’s fugees and exiled NAR soldiers, miners, and anyone who can’t find a home get stuck in this hole. Why would you want to live here when you have a choice?” At least that was what her dad had said. She couldn’t remember anything but a few bright years of life in Venezuela, then they move down here when the job came open, and their old research lab went underwater.
“My family are fugees, too.”
Ionia had forgotten, Cam's family originally came from London until they moved to France. “My home didn’t go under, but it was too expensive to live on the island anymore. They pay well here, Ionia. Good credits and steady work. And most of the time, not bad company.” She gave Ionia a sideways grin that showed off her full set of beautiful white teeth. Only people with lots of credits could keep such nice teeth.
“Don’t you want to settle down someday and have a family?” Ionia had thought about marrying Simon someday or someone who was as sanguine as Simon, and having lots of kids. A big family to love, then moving back to either North or South America. She would stay home and teach them about art and go on trips and all the stuff a real mom should do.
Cam’s face blanked, and she returned her attention to the scene before her. “Hadn’t thought about it, love.”
Something in her tone told Ionia this was a sore subject and to back off, but Cam was so pretty with her wiry black hair that formed a halo around her bronzed-brown face and full lips--pretty, talented and kind. She even tolerated grumbly, old Rod.
Ionia’s stomach grumbled so loud it was audible over the roar of the engine and Cam snort-laughed. “Sounds like you swallowed a pack of wild dogs. Check out the pantry in the back on the left.”
“You only need to offer food once.” Ionia trudged passed Den and sat down on one of the smaller crates back in the galley. The momentum of the plane pushed on her. She grabbed one of the hanging handholds and pulled herself to the rear.
The smell of gasoline doused the tail end. Most newer planes used alternate sources of fuel; cleaner, but not cheaper. Except here. Antarctica had some of the last oil reserves on Earth and the biggest oil refinery left in the southern hemi, which kept fossil fuel in line with solar, plasma, and electric.
She found the fridge. It always awed her. Coldest place in the world, yet they still needed a fridge. Most of the year cold stuff could be stored outside, but the backup engines double-heated the back of the plane, making it quite warm. She pushed aside the bottle of Goldschläger to find the chocovitamix.
“Goldschläger?” The alcohol was a surprise. It was worth over 300 credits and hard to come by. Only the top of the top, richest of the rich, kept it on hand. She knew from all her experience with Rod and his constant need to nurse a bottle of alcohol. He bought it cheap and in bulk.
“Yeah, a gift from a client.” Cam shouted from the cockpit, and her voice vibrated over the engine hum. “There she is, Mac Town.”
Ionia shook the vitaprotein drink and found her seat.
Mac Town glowed like a supernova come to rest in a vast wasteland of white and black. A beacon to weary travelers and runaway daughters. She sipped the frosted chocolate goodness and let it settle in her belly.
It wasn’t really a town anymore; it had become something of a sprawling city. Only the melting of the ice shelf had stopped the endless expansion.
Mac Town. It was great to see it again.
“Still looks the same. No major changes,” Ionia said.
“More fugee Hiltons on the ice sheet, s’all.”
“They don’t care it’s against the law or that it may break off at any moment. Guess they have to live somewhere,” Ionia said. No one could give her enough credits to build on a temporary ice bridge. “It will be underwater by summer.”
“What choice they got love? Not enough places to live.”
“But why here?”
Ionia would have been happy to live out her life in a larger city, in a much more northern latitude, far from any coastline.
“Most came for the oil and mining jobs. Some for the adventure of the last frontier in the world.”
“Whatever that means.” Almost dying daily on a God-forsaken piece of ice didn’t sound like an adventure. It sounded like a death wish.
“Understand, love. After these people get here, it’s near impossible to afford to leave, so they survived and huddled in their lean-tos. Lucky it’s so much warmer than it used to be.”
They circled once more to line up with the runway. Her stomach dipped like it did before she rode a blazer, or stepped on ice, or snuck on board a zodiac without permission. Pretty much when she did anything, her mother had banned or forbidden. A wound-up, can’t-wait feeling shot down in her core.
When she got off, there was no one to meet her or watch out for her, except Den. She pulled that fact around her like a blanket and finished her drink. It was going to be okay. She had Simon and Miranda.
Cam landed the plane and gave her a quick hug. “You be careful. Want me to walk ya to your mate’s house? I can unload later.”
Ionia shook her head, “I’ll be fine, and I’ll call my mom soon as I get there or can access the Cortex. My friends have a satellite. I just want to explore for a bit.”
Cam jerked her chin and smiled a don’t-get-in-too-much-trouble smile. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t.” Ionia motioned Den to follow, and he silently sidled up to her. “Mac Town
here I come.”
###
The crowd consisted of the largest and most varied amount of humans Den had ever encountered. His preloaded programming gave him much information about types and sizes and social mores, but being in the midst of all the input and the movement made his processors whirl.
The avenue averaged twelve meters across and appeared in disrepair. Asphalt and rubber- concrete buckled below their feet. He dodged large holes filled with runoff water. The grid of heat strips embedded under the ground kept a large portion of the snow from growing near the airfield.
Too many humanoids milled in their vicinity.
A heightened state of defense wound his joints tight. No harm would come to Ionia. He must protect the mistress.
Den matched Ionia’s pace exactly, to the millimeter. A wave of unpleasantness coursed through his hard drive that made his facial expression cringe.
“What’s wrong, Den?”
“This trip. This change of venue. I do not like. There are multiple weapons within less than 100 square meters of you, and many of them have live charges. Males emitting pheromones and desirous of a mate are viewing you from beneath hooded jackets, unshaven, unwashed, undesirable, unpredictable. I do not want them to approach you.”
She gave him a closed mouth grin and looked up at him through her lashes. “Aw Den, you worry too much. This is fun. And you are, after all, superhero strong. I know you can take out anyone or anything.”
“Walking into imminent danger does not meet my definition of the word fun. And yes, I am ten times stronger than an average human male.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“There are more than ten human males in the immediate vicinity.”
“Fine. I’ll be more careful. It will be great once we get to the market. I’ll show you.”
She sprinted forward, and he quickened his pace to catch her, shoving through the growing crowd.
A man moved in behind Ionia from the mob and reached a hand toward her back.
A particularly dirty male in his late forties, bearded and lacking in all of his teeth, owned the hand. His fingers came to within a centimeter of Ionia’s shoulder before Den’s defense protocol sent a flood of energy to his extremities. His level of preparedness was lessened since Ionia’s maternal unit had adjusted his danger levels, but it was operational.
Frozen Hearts: The Ionia Chronicles: Book One Page 8
