Windrunner's Daughter

by Bryony Pearce

  She could barely watch as Raw plummeted towards the ground. She remembered seeing him fall once before. This was different, this time she didn’t care about the wings he wore, she only cared about him and it wasn’t because he was the only one who knew how to adjust the solar panels. “Catch the thermal,” she prayed.

  Then, suddenly Wren hit cooler air. The heat wasn’t strong enough to take her any higher. She looked up. She was barely two wing lengths from the apex of the Dome and she wasn’t going to make it. She started to drop.

  “No!” she howled.

  To her right the Dome sloped downwards, but long metal struts, like scaffold, filled her vision. They went from about two-thirds up the Dome to the very top; extra support for the weight of the solar panels. If she tilted herself correctly she just might be able to catch one of them.

  She was falling faster now. She couldn’t spare a second to look for Raw. Instead she tilted her right shoulder, forcing the last of the hot air to take her circling sideways. The Dome-slope came up on her with terrifying suddenness and Wren realised that if she wanted to catch a strut she would have to unlock her wings.

  “Oh skies,” she whispered. Panic thudded in her chest and, within a finger’s length of a metal joist, just as she started to fall again, Wren flicked her elbows and unlocked her wings.

  Instantly her weight took her downwards. She threw her arms out and they slammed around the metal with bruising force.

  Wren went from falling to dangling. She followed her arms with her legs and wrapped them around the pole, panting with terror.

  Then she tilted her head and looked down. Her brothers were standing almost directly below, looking tiny. Where was Raw? She craned her neck, trying to see.

  There he was, circling up the thermal, heading towards her. His voice reached her ears. He was yelling at her. Wren hugged the scaffold tighter.

  Raw was heavier than she, he wasn’t even going to make it as high. But he copied her, heading towards the joist to her left. He slammed into it at least two body lengths lower than she had. The whole Dome seemed to quiver with the force of his landing.

  “Hang on!” she cried.

  “Holy Designers!” Raw clung like a bug to a gingko branch. His chest heaved.

  “We’ll have to climb the rest of the way,” Wren called.

  Raw nodded and Wren looked up. Her arms already ached and the scaffold looked steep and, now she was on it, impossible to climb.

  She tried to force herself to let go with one arm so that she could pull herself up, but she couldn’t prise her fingers open. Her instincts said ‘cling’ and so she clung.

  “You don’t have to wait for me,” Raw shouted. “Go on.”

  “I can’t.” Wren coughed.

  There was a pause and then: “I’m coming.”

  Wren watched him haul himself upwards, arm over arm, propelling himself higher with his thighs. Once he was level with her he called from his joist. “Can you do what I do?”

  Wren shook her head. “My arms are just so tired.”

  “Okay.” Raw stretched across and grabbed her wing straps. He could just reach, but the Dome narrowed above them; they would get closer together. “I’ll pull you.”

  “You can do that?” Wren swallowed and tried not to think about the amount of pain he had to be in.

  In answer Raw used one arm and his legs to push himself higher up and dragged Wren after him. She resisted his pull at first, unable to relax her grasp. He grunted at her. She had to trust him.

  “I’ve got you.”

  “I know.” Slowly her fingers and thighs loosened. She didn’t let go, but she relaxed enough that she slid a few inches up the pole when he dragged her.

  She looked up. They had a couple of body lengths to go; this was going to take forever if she didn’t help. With Raw holding her, Wren finally felt confident enough to reach above her with one hand.

  This time when he pulled her, she pushed with her thighs and dragged herself with one arm and moved twice as far.

  They kept moving. Wren tried not to look down. If she fell her wings would probably save her. Probably.

  Her back grew hotter – the fire was still raging below. They had to vent the O2.

  The world shrank to the movement of her hands and legs. Sweat made her palms slick and her legs throbbed and trembled.

  Raw drew nearer as their joists ran closer together. Then, suddenly, he wasn’t pulling her any more. She looked at him with one arm stretched above her head, and blinked. Her fingers touched a platform. They had reached the apex.

  “Go.” Raw boosted her up and she pulled her chest onto the metal grid. He followed, panting.

  “We made it,” she said. She rolled onto her back and stared upwards. The sun was almost directly over head. “It’s almost mid-day.” She groaned and rose awkwardly onto her knees. “What do we do now?”

  Raw crouched beside her and looked up. There was a mechanism on the side of each panel and a large central node with a dusty screen and keyboard.

  “All right, these are pretty much the same as ours.” He touched the semi-rusted hinges on the panel nearest him. “They were constructed so that when the Domes come down, the solar array can be repositioned on ground level. Right now they stay at one optimal angle because the populations of the Domes and therefore their power needs remain consistent -”

  “And if they moved, everyone inside the Dome would die.”

  “Right.” Raw rubbed his chin. “But when the atmosphere becomes breathable and the Domes come down, human populations will spread and more energy will be needed. So the panels were actually designed to rotate – when they’re needed to, they can track the sun and gather maximum possible energy.

  “They go round.” Wren grasped his meaning immediately.

  “Here’s the axis.” Raw pointed. Each panel had a line running through the centre.

  “So, we can push them open?” Wren tried. She shoved the nearest panel with her shoulder, but it didn’t budge. Screaming sounded from below and she bit her lip. “It didn’t move.”

  “It won’t. The panels are programmed to remain closed because they’re still on the Dome top. I’m going to have to re-programme the central panel.” He indicated the dusty screen. “When I say so, you need to depress the ‘unlock’ button on one of the panel, then you’ll have to push it open – it’ll be hard to move.”

  Wren nodded. “I get it. How many should we open?”

  “One should be enough.” Raw cracked his knuckles. “Ready?”

  Wren moved into position under the closest panel. “Which button?”

  “This one here.” Raw’s hand hovered over hers, warm. He took her finger and guided it to a square red button. “It takes two - I’ve got to key the button on the central node, while you do this one. It’s a failsafe.

  “Because of sabotage?”

  “Of course. After Keirnan’s Day the Originals put in as many fail-safes as they could, so don’t press it till I say so, or you’ll freeze up the process.”

  He moved to the central node and rubbed the screen with his sleeve. “Designers, this is old.” He had to hammer at the keys to loosen them.

  He thought for a moment, his green eyes narrow. Then he tapped the keyboard. He hesitated; then tapped again. Wren couldn’t tell what he was inputting.

  She closed her fists and her eyes, resisting the temptation to check the colony below. “All right, I’ve reprogrammed its horizon. The computer thinks we’re at ground level. I’m going to release the tilting mechanism in three … two … one-”

  Wren jabbed the unlocking button. Then, as her panel gave a metallic whimper and didn’t move, she set her shoulder to it. “Come on.”

  “I’ve got to staying leaning on this button, Wren, or it’ll re-lock. You have to move it by yourself.”

  Wren put her back against the panel and bent her knees; then she tried to straighten her legs. The whole panel groaned.


  “You’re doing it,” Raw shouted.

  “It’s not moving.”

  “It will. Keep trying.”

  She yelled and pressed her hands against the silicone at shoulder height. “Move!”

  With a suddenness that shocked her, the panel suddenly tore free and swung outwards. The wind, that had been kept from the colony for so long rushed underneath with a howl and swept Wren off her feet. Her wings fluttered and she grabbed the edge of the panel. O2 hissed as it was sucked through the hole and past her into the atmosphere.

  “Wren!” Raw yelled and leaped for her. He grabbed one of her feet and wrapped his other arm around the console.

  Then there were flames. Blazing O2 raged past Wren almost too fast to burn. Screaming, she closed her eyes and wished for her goggles. She could feel her eyebrows charring and her hair crisping on her head.

  Her cheeks and bare fingers heated and her tunic smouldered.

  Her wings were almost tearing from her back, fluttering so madly in the power of the escaping gas that she was sure they would soon be torn into the sky.

  Raw’s grip on her leg loosened. If he let go she would be dragged out of the Dome. She'd never survive another dust storm.

  “Don’t let go,” she screamed.

  Her ears throbbed as an alarm higher pitched than any she had heard before started to wail: low O2.

  Suddenly the panel shook as something hard slammed into it. Then more hands grabbed her; lending their strength to Raw’s they defied the wind, pulled her inside, and dragged her under the console.

  Wren collapsed against Raw, chest heaving, and split open her eyelids. Escaping O2 shrieked around them and made their wings flutter into a blinding silver funnel.

  Colm faced her, his dark eyes intent on her face. “Skies, Wren, we didn’t think.” She had to read his lips to understand him.

  “Designers ...” Raw went to touch her face, but then stopped. “How much does it hurt?”

  “How did you get up here?” Wren yelled. She stared at Colm. Jay was crouched behind her. His hands knotted around her stomach, pinning her to both Raw and the joist and half crushing the breath from her.

  “On the O2 train,” Colm shouted his reply and his jaw tightened. “Like rockets. Are you all right?” The wail of escaping gas abruptly eased, almost as quickly as it had started. Jay’s hands dropped from her and she could breathe through her halfie again. The wind once more pushed into the Dome.

  Wren didn’t dare touch her cheeks. Her skin was numb.

  They rolled onto the edge of the platform and looked down. A few masked colonists were staggering, apparently shell shocked, others had collapsed. They looked like ants, frozen in their duties. The pyramid had cracked from bottom to top, but there was no sign of fire.

  “Let’s go.” Jay pointed to the open panel. “It’s the perfect take off point. We don’t need the Runway.” His hair streamed in the wind.

  “We can’t.” Wren cocked her head at the sun. “The mid-day gales are coming.”

  “And we’ve got to shut the panel.” Raw gripped the central node. “I can’t do it from outside. I have to re-programme.”

  “Screw the panel,” Jay snapped.

  “O2 is escaping as fast as it’s being generated.” Wren frowned. “They’re already suffocating.” Below them sirens still wailed and wailed.

  “I don’t care.” Jay folded his arms.

  Raw squared up. “I’m not going to be responsible for wiping out a whole colony.”

  “The world needs them.” Wren exhaled shakily. “Jay, we’ve already lost Tir Na Nog, we can’t lose the Vaikunthans too.”

  “Wren’s right,” Colm sighed. “We’ll have to take off from the Runner platform with the others.”

  “Wren can’t,” Jay reminded him. “If the Runners see her alive they’ll take her wings and throw her off.”

  Raw put his arm around Wren’s shoulders. “We’ll wait till the others have all gone and then go. The Councillor said he’d free us if we opened the panel.”

  Colm nodded. “All right. What do we do?”

  “I’m going to change the programme; you’ll need to pull it shut against the wind.”

  Raw typed more slowly this time and one-handed. He was holding himself close to the keyboard with the other, resisting the pull of the wind.

  Wren tried to go to the panel, but Colm held her back. “Stay back, hold our legs.”

  He and Jay set themselves in the centre of the panel and gripped the edges. Their wings snapped around them.

  “The button,” Raw shouted.

  Wren pushed the unlocking mechanism. Something clanked deep inside the panel.

  “Pull!” he yelled.

  Colm and Jay hauled downwards. The wind blew ever harder, the gale rising and tugging at the panel, desperate to keep it open.

  “It’s not moving.” Jay leaned his full weight and the panel groaned.

  Wren leaped across and grabbed his legs, lending her weight to his.

  Colm gasped as a gust lifted him skywards. “Colm!” Wren cried. Jay released the panel and grabbed him. Then the wind, fickle as ever, changed direction for a mere heartbeat and the panel slammed downward.

  Colm was shaken free and Jay gasped as his fingers were trapped in the seam.

  Colm slammed into the metal grid and Wren pulled Jay’s fingers free as the panel locked back into place. “Let me see.”

  Jay pushed her off and shoved his hands under his armpits. “I’ll be fine.” He looked at Raw. “Happy now? We’re trapped here.”

  Raw squatted on the platform. “Look.” He pointed at the stirring colonists. The O2 alarm whispered into silence.

  “They’ll have to live on low O2 for a while,” Wren murmured.

  “But they’ll live.” Raw gripped her hand. “I didn’t kill them all.”

  Wren shook her head. “Are we staying up here till the gale dies?”

  Colm nodded. “No-one else is getting up here, we couldn’t be safer.”

  They leaned against the central node, arms and legs around joists and watched the last of the colonists lurch into their homes. Around them the solar panels shook as the high winds drove biting sand against the Dome.

  Raw put one arm around Wren and she closed her eyes.

  Chapter twenty-six

  When Wren woke her brothers were muttering to one another. As she stirred Jay looked at her guiltily. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “It’s okay.” Wren rubbed her eyes and winced. Her skin felt as if it had been sanded. “What’s happening?”

  Raw pointed towards the Runner platform. Even from their high perch, Wren could see that the airlock had cycled green.

  The first Runner was already through it and racing along the platform. As soon as his feet left the red line, the second pelted out onto the boards and, like a silver ribbon, the row of Runners unfurled into the wind; escaping from Vaikuntha to Run over the delta.

  Wren was used to seeing far reaching views; she lived at the top of Elysium Mons, yet the sight of the Runners from the top of the Dome was one she knew would stay with her for the rest of her life.

  She turned slowly, taking in the whole delta. Around them, rocks, abraded to smoothness, formed organic looking ridges like veins across the desert. They glittered with seams of mica, quartz and obsidian, gold and other precious metals, bright colours that the height of Elysium made bland orange or brown. The recent gale had ironed out the dust, but even as she watched, arrows grew and moved, sand-writing drawn by the Creatures. If she squinted she almost felt she could read meanings in the senseless scrawl of their movement.

  Clouds scudded across the violet sky and patches of green shimmered in the distance like mirages. Beyond them the rising grey line of the approaching mega-storm and then the Runners, seeking height and distance from captivity.

  When the last of them had left the airlock, Colm stood up. “Time to go.”

  Wren stretch
ed and Raw helped her to stand. She shook her legs, trying to loosen them up.

  “Just glide to the platform,” Colm said. “There isn’t any wind, but we’re dropping, so we should be all right. You just have to keep your wings locked till you get there. Don’t forget to lower your legs at the platform.”

  “She knows what to do.” Raw straightened. “The question is, do you?”

  Wren touched his forearm. “Stop it, Raw.” She looked at Colm. “I’ll be fine.”

  “All right then.” Colm glowered. “Follow me.” He leaped from the platform and thrust out his arms. His wings locked and Wren held her breath as he started to glide downwards, too fast; there wasn’t enough air, they had vented it all. Colm aimed for the platform and slammed into the staircase below it with an audible thud.

  Wren clutched her wing straps, until he waved. Then she relaxed. Colonists were hastening towards the platform; she thought she recognised Erb, the fat Councillor among them. She indicated their rush with a tilt of her head. “We’ve got to go.”

  “You next,” Jay said.

  Wren shrugged. She rotated her shoulders and then set her face towards Colm’s swiftly climbing figure.

  Before she could jump, Raw caught her shoulder and spun her around. His lips touched hers. He released her almost before she realised what was happening. “Good luck.”

  Wren smiled. Then she turned and in one smooth movement, leaped from the metal grid.

  Joists flashed in front of her face, silver against the violet of the sky beyond the stippled Dome. She angled herself between two and felt the gentlest of air beneath her unlocked wings. Unable to prevent herself, she half closed her arms and rolled into a joyful spin, slanting downwards and whooping as she heard Jay’s horrified shout. She evened out, flicked her arms straight and locked. Catching the updraft from the damaged O2 tanks, she glided smoothly towards the Runner platform and her brother who had turned at Jay’s cries.

  She landed lightly just above him, closing her wings neatly into her sides as she touched down.

  Colm was flushed red. “What did you think you were doing? You could kill yourself flying like a … like a -”