Viral Airwaves

by Claudie Arseneault

  “They will as long as I need them.”

  “Let’s move, then. I’ll tend to them once we’re safe.”

  She motioned for everyone to follow and they fell into a line behind her. They advanced into a tunnel going ever downward, sometimes in a slow slope, sometimes in abrupt drops they had to climb. The distant echo of bombs followed them as they made their way deeper into the bowels of Mount Kairn, a reminder that the Union’s army—his army—wasn’t far behind.

  * * *

  By the time Maniel called for a pause, a cold film of sweat covered Vermen’s forehead. He shivered despite the exercise and had trouble keeping his focus on anything but the light ahead. At the edge of his vision, shadows flickered, sometimes forming the familiar shape of his brother. Vermen ignored the hallucination and concentrated on the next step. Every time he set his foot down, a jolt of pain rushed up his leg. He was glad to stop, even for a moment.

  They had followed a river for some time now—Vermen had no idea how long they’d been walking—and Maniel stood in front of a branching tunnel, with a smaller stream at the bottom, plunging into the river. They could cross it with ease, the current was not strong. Why didn’t they?

  Maniel crouched and snuck into the side tunnel, knees and neck bent to avoid touching the low ceiling, the lamp held high to avoid contact with water. Joshua followed, then it was his turn. Vermen gritted his teeth as he lowered his foot in the water. The last hours had turned everything below his tibia into a fleshy mess of pain. The water soaked his pants up to the knees and focused the diffused throbbing into sharp agony. Vermen gasped but forced himself to move forward, cringing with every step. He hoped they didn’t have long to go. He felt like a rat scuttling in the darkness, undignified and desperate.

  He stubbed his toes on a large rock. An excruciating flare zapped up his leg and he lost balance, crashing into Joshua and bringing them both down in the stream. Water filled his ears and blocked all sounds for a moment, then strong hands pulled him out. He sat, spitting and panting, water dripping from his hair and beard. The Burgian had already jumped to his feet with a string of curses while Maniel studied the captain with a worried frown.

  “We’re almost there.”

  “I can limp along.”

  He ought to try harder to impress the rebels with his endurance, but he didn’t have the strength for such games. Maniel motioned for the teenager to get closer. He hesitated—was he scared?—then offered Vermen a hand.

  “Captain, this is Jan. He’ll help you.”

  “Hum…Hello.”

  As Jan whispered his greeting, Vermen recognized the young, dissenting voice from the rebels’ improvised execution. “You were on that summit.”

  Even in the dim light, the captain noticed the deep flush on the teenager’s cheeks. Jan avoided his gaze but managed a small guilty nod.

  “Thank you for trying to get the bag removed.” Vermen grabbed the still-extended hand and accepted the lift up. He flinched as his weight returned in full to his ankles but Jan slid under his shoulder right away. He tried to enjoy the guilty confusion on his helper’s angled face but even half-carried along, the remainder of the trek required all his concentration.

  They emerged into a larger, L-shaped cave. The stream’s blubbering source was in front of their entrance, in the shorter part of the L. The rest of the cave stretched around a bend on the left, dry and dark. Vermen angled toward the corner, leaned on the wall and slid down. He heaved a sigh of relief and watched as the rebels headed to the end of the L-shape and removed certain rocks, revealing a cache. They retrieved a large box from it and begun spreading the equipment within on the ground—food, batteries, bedrolls and dry clothes.

  Joshua snatched one and took off his soaked shirt right away. Vermen’s eyes widened as he noticed the many darkened bruises on his chest and shoulders. They had to be a few weeks old, and he wondered when the Burgian had taken such a beating. Vermen ought to look away, to give him what little privacy this cave would offer. He didn’t. His gaze lingered until Joshua grabbed another dry shirt and flung it his way.

  “You looked jealous.”

  Flustered, the captain grabbed the piece of cloth and averted his eyes, unbuttoning his drenched shirt to change. Maniel joined him with a first aid kit.

  “Can I ask what the plan is?” Vermen asked.

  “Wait for the danger to pass, go back to our headquarters to see what we can salvage then head to Reverence.” She knelt by his side. “Let’s see what I can do for you.”

  She pulled his wet pants up and began cleaning the wounds, causing him to hiss in pain. There were bright bloody lines were the shackles had dug into his flesh and the skin was raw. Maniel worked with impressive discipline. She had to be worried about Andeal, but she had yet to waver in her assigned role as leader and nurse of this group. He wondered how long her resolve would last. She squeezed the bandages tight and a pained exclamation escaped his lips.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never had worse,” she said.

  “I broke my leg once when I was seven. Fell down a tree. My brother had to carry me.”

  “The brother?”

  Maniel’s voice softened. He answered with a curt nod, but added nothing. The last thing he wanted was to talk about Klaus with rebels. Maniel must have understood his silence. She avoided the topic and continued with a teasing tone.

  “Not that much of a grizzled soldier, then, are you?”

  Vermen sketched a smile and rested his head on the stone wall. It felt like weeks since he’d woken up and helped the rebels put the finishing touches to their balloon’s launch rail, yet it couldn’t be much more than a day. In a single day, he had thrown his life-long allegiance to the Union away and saved Seraphin’s rebels. Not just one man. All of them.

  And yet, despite his pained ankles and uncertain future, Hans Vermen had rarely felt so good about himself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  As soon as he woke up, Henry rose and massaged his stiff neck. He stretched himself, causing his back to pop, then glanced around. The clouds had lifted during the night and a warm sun caressed the balloon. Wind carried them northeast and Mount Kairn was just a tiny rise on the horizon now. He checked their altitude, surprised they still seemed so high. A little under twenty thousand feet. The balloon’s air had cooled through the night, but the helium pouch sufficed to keep them far above ground. They wouldn’t need to burn any gas today: the warmth would do most of the lifting.

  Andeal slept on the other side of the basket, half-sitting against the basket’s side. Henry stepped over his legs to open the storage, then withdrew two solar panels and their cables, along with a pack of delicious noodles. A shame they couldn’t afford the extra weight of water to cook them. He shut the lid with care and hurried to his corner of the basket, under the burners. Andeal grunted but didn’t wake. Good. He deserved the rest, after last night’s frenzy.

  Henry set aside his meal for the moment and focused on the solar panels. They were almost the length of the balloon’s basket and the rebels had welded two large hooks behind. The photosynthetic material was thankfully rather light and he had no problem lifting the panels to hang them outside, one side each, where they’d catch the sun. He then plugged both into the propeller’s battery. Bright weather like today’s would keep their propeller running but if they ran out of power, only the winds would guide their direction.

  Not that he knew where they meant to go. He ought to ask Andeal.

  Henry pushed the thought away, for later. He wanted to enjoy the morning. He took the pack of noodles and smashed it against the basket, crushing the thick brick into smaller chunks before he opened the sack. As he leaned on the railing, he brought the first bite to his lips.

  The noodles crunched under his teeth, perfectly salted. His stomach rumbled—not a protest, for once—and Henry crammed more in his mouth. He’d missed the pleasure of biting into a flavored hunk. And today he could savor it thousands of feet above the air, in a special balloon d
esigned by his father. The Lenz Balloon. That’s how they would call the model, if ballooning ever became common again. For now, however, they were the only ones roaming the sky. He wondered if there was anyone on the ground to see it.

  A thick forest stretched below them and from above the trees looked like broccoli. A river frolicked out of the woods, snaking through the countryside. Henry followed its path as far as he could. What a splendid vista. He plunged his fingers into his noodle bag, munched his breakfast and took a deep breath. When had he last savored such a delightful morning?

  “You ate without me?”

  Andeal’s teasing question surprised Henry. He hadn’t heard his friend wake or stand but the engineer leaned against the basket’s side with a wide grin. Henry faked horror.

  “I would never.”

  He brought the bag to his lips and poured all that was left in his mouth. It pulled short-lived laughter from Andeal but his friend soon sighed, ran a hand through his disheveled hair, and crossed his arms. He cast a look at the landscape.

  “Where are we?”

  “Drifting high in the sky, in a corner of paradise.”

  Andeal scowled. “Not what I meant. Where?”

  “Northeast. We flew northeast.” He kept his voice low. Andeal’s raised voice had carried through the sky. “I didn’t touch the direction. It’s not like I’d know where to go.”

  “Reverence.”

  “What?”

  That was the last location Henry had expected. Andeal wanted him to fly straight to the capital. Henry searched for a sign of amusement in his expression. His friend had to be joking. They’d barely escaped the bomber blimp, their home was destroyed, and they had no idea if their little flight would go unnoticed. And Andeal wanted to go where union forces would be the thickest? Great plan. Yet his friend showed no sign of jesting. Henry rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Why Reverence, of all places?”

  “I don’t see another option.” Andeal leaned back and closed his eyes. He looked so…sad. An unnatural expression for him. “We can’t stay near Mt. Kairn with the balloon, not for now. When Joshua got attacked, however, Seraphin sought me out. He thought this might happen and told me the contact in Reverence was a good friend. We could wait for them there. He thinks she won’t refuse us. No matter the danger or…or that I’m blue.”

  Andeal wrung his hands together. Henry searched for something to say—wise words to reassure his friend and bring his smile back—but his mind remained blank. Instead he walked to him and squeezed his shoulder. Andeal shrugged it off.

  “I know a way in,” he said, “but once we’re in the city, how do I sneak around? I’m impossible to miss.”

  “We’ll go at night. You almost look Burgian in the dark. We’ve got days of flight before we arrive. Don’t overthink it. Eat instead. It always works for me.”

  He motioned at the chest under his friend and his comment drew a smile. Andeal obeyed and rummaged through the chest, selecting his breakfast: enticing strips of beef jerky.

  While his friend ate, Henry returned to work and checked the bright blue flag tied to a cable. It fluttered in a constant northern wind that pushed them at a slow and peaceful pace. Combining the breeze with the propeller’s strength would be easy. Since he could not put the spinning blades anywhere else than under the basket or on one side, he grabbed the direction rope and pulled. The balloon slowly turned around, bringing the blades west. Perfect. Henry plopped down in the bottom of the basket, wondering how precise he could be. He’d never flown for real, let alone combined two unequal strengths to guide his aircraft. What choice did he have, though? He would have to become a pro, and fast. He checked the battery’s level, smiled at the growing green bar, and leaned back against the sides. The only sound so far above ground came from the whirring propeller, soft and reassuring.

  He should feel terrible about those thoughts. The bomber blimp had blown Andeal’s world to smithereens. Everyone might be dead, buried under a defaced Mount Kairn. The Races’ trail must have vanished among rockslides and new craters. But he couldn’t stress or panic here. The balloon soothed him. Calmed his otherwise unstable nerves.

  It seemed to have the opposite effect on Andeal. His friend played with his breakfast, his gaze lost into the clear sky. He put the food down without finishing, stood to glance at the ground, sat again. And all through this routine, he kept running a hand in his hair or staring at his palms. Nervous.

  “Andeal?”

  Andeal turned and held his breath. Fear looked almost as unnatural as sadness had on him.

  “She’ll be okay.”

  Andeal’s gaze dove into his, perhaps searching for a sign of falseness. But Henry trusted Maniel to endure any hardships. She had this calm strength he envied, and if anyone could keep her head straight while bombs fell upon it, it was her. Andeal smiled, his breathing eased. He leaned on the rail and stared out at the beautiful scene below their feet.

  Neither of them would admit she might be dead. What would be the point? There would be no changing the balloon’s slow course. Whether or not anyone else had survived Mount Kairn’s bombing, they would go to Reverence.

  The winds only knew what they could do from there.

  * * *

  A loud splash downstream startled Captain Vermen and he jumped to his feet. The sudden movement of air blew their four-story card castle to the ground, drawing a curse from Joshua and a disappointed ‘aw’ from Maniel and Jan. Vermen hushed them. No paper castle would save them from a union squad. While the two rebels turned to Maniel for orders, Vermen stalked past the cave’s bend. He picked up a hand-sized rock on his way and flattened himself next to the entrance, against the wall. Holding his breath, he listened to the approaching intruders.

  One to three men. Hard to tell with all the water.

  Vermen looked at Maniel, lifted one finger, then three. She nodded and raised a pistol. The captain’s eyes widened in surprise. No one had told him the rebels hid a firearm here. He resisted the urge to cross the cavern and grab it, to feel the cool handle under his fingers. The last time he’d held a pistol, he’d pointed it at Seraphin’s forehead. Ages ago, it seemed. He was no longer the captain who had held that gun. Now he was a man with a rock.

  The splashing steps grew louder. Almost there. Tension sped Vermen’s heartbeat and forced him to steady his breath. He watched for Maniel’s reaction; stationed at the corner, she would see the enemy before him. Vermen wished their bodies didn’t cast long shadows on the ground. Whoever approached would’ve noticed the light, though, and dimming it would attract attention. He readied himself and hoped for the best.

  “Maniel?”

  Seraphin’s uncertain question carried out of the tunnel and a collective sigh of relief escaped them. Vermen dropped his rock and pushed himself off the wall. Joshua knelt and begun gathering his cards. Maniel lowered her pistol.

  “We’re here.”

  The Regarian emerged from the long cavern and stepped out of the stream. He held his boots in his hands and his skeletal feet caught Vermen’s attention. Seraphin’s skin seemed stretched upon bones, with minimal muscles under it and no fat at all. Had everyone thinned so much? He ran a finger along his cheek and glanced at his bony wrists. Rations were scarce. He doubted any of them looked healthy.

  “You scared us,” Maniel said. “What news?”

  Seraphin detailed Vermen from head to toe, letting a tense silence linger, then turned to Maniel. “Everyone reached their hideouts safe. Except, it seems, Andeal.”

  “The tunnel collapsed before I could reach him.”

  “A bad surprise for all of us.”

  Joshua snickered at Seraphin’s answer. The captain gritted his teeth and lifted his chin. He had just saved their collective ass. He would not let them shame him because he had not arrived at the balloon’s hangar in time.

  “Yes, including me.”

  Vermen’s retort brought an amused laugh from Seraphin, but his mirth did not last. He turned to
Maniel. “Soldiers are roaming these caves. Stay hidden for now. We’ll regroup in three days.” He paused, licked his lips. That strange vulnerable expression resurfaced again and Vermen found himself staring. Drawn in by the concerned, friendly side of Seraphin, the one he’d always refused to consider might exist. “I didn’t hear anything about a hot air balloon. They don’t know Andeal and Henry took off.”

  Neither do we, Vermen thought. No one pointed it out. No one wanted to underscore the very real possibility of their deaths. When the silence stretched on, with no other response from Maniel than a distant nod, Vermen cleared his throat.

  “What’s next?” he asked. “Once we regroup, what do we do?”

  The question warranted him a second suspicious examination from Seraphin. The rebel leader tilted his head to the side.

  “We?”

  Vermen gritted his teeth. He was not a rebel. He did not want him thinking that either. “Well, I’m stuck with you for a while, am I not?”

  “I guess you are.” Seraphin’s amused tone grated on Vermen’s nerves but he kept silent as the Regarian continued. “Andeal will be en route to Reverence. We’ll join him before we figure out anything else. With a detour through Elmsfield to resupply.”

  “Elmsfield?” Joshua lifted his head and stopped gathering his deck. His sudden interest made everyone else smile.

  “Yes, Elmsfield. Mayor Riley will not refuse to help us.”

  “Of course not.”

  Joshua returned to his task with renewed enthusiasm, his grin even wider than usual. There had to be a girl behind his reaction. Vermen scowled. This was no time to think of silly romance. They were stuck underground with little food, Andeal might well be dead and their hideout had been blasted to dust. He ought to get his priorities straight.

  Seraphin’s gaze trailed on the remainder of Joshua’s deck, still spread on the cavern’s floor. “Everybody’s either stressed or bored to death yet here you are, playing card games. I should’ve thought of that and put you on my team.”