by Kate MacLeod
“I’ll show you,” Daisy said. “You’ll get the hang of it once we’re out in free fall. I’ll take the dogs. If you have to ditch your crate, we’ll get by, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
Scout nodded, far less sure herself.
Daisy hefted the crate with both dogs inside and carried it out the doorway, down the hall to the tunnel on the far side of the cave. Scout, carrying the smaller, far lighter crate, envied how easy Daisy made it look. Sure, her augmented body had super strength, but how did she manage to slip through the narrowest parts of the end of the cave as if the plastic crate in her arms was as fluid as her own body?
Daisy came back and helped Scout angle her own crate through the narrowest bit. If she too was wondering how Scout was going to manage flying with a box she couldn’t walk with, she didn’t show it.
Once they were out on the sandy patch outside of the tunnel mouth, Daisy stopped to pull a rope harness out of one of her cargo pockets. Scout had one just like it in one of her belt pouches, and she quickly slipped it over her shoulders and fastened it in front. Scout waited for Daisy to attach hers to the crate, but instead, she turned to Scout.
“You first,” Daisy said.
“Me first? I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You first so I can help you,” Daisy said, adjusting the fit of Scout’s harness before running a rope through the ring set over her breastbone. “I’m giving you a lot of extra length. You have a sense of how far down the artificial gravity goes here?”
“Sort of,” Scout said.
“You’ll jump out and get your wind under you; then I’ll toss down the crate. It’s going to drag you down, don’t worry about that. Just keep yourself level. Once you’re out of the gravity field, everything is going to feel much more natural.”
Scout doubted that. She would still have a lot of extra mass dangling at the end of a long rope. Nonaerodynamic mass at that.
Scout waited for Daisy to give her a nod, then took as much of a run as she could, launching off the last bit of rock and extending her glider wings to catch the air.
It felt like her best takeoff ever, right up until Daisy tossed down the crate.
Scout could tell that Daisy had thrust it as straight down as she could with all of her augmented strength, sending it on the fastest path out of the gravity field rather than swinging it on the end of its rope, a motion that would likely send Scout tumbling out of proper glider configuration. Even so, the sudden increase in weight made her all too aware that her body weight was being held aloft by what basically amounted to plastic paper.
But she remembered what Daisy said and fought the urge to panic at how fast the underbelly of island bedrock was zooming past her, focusing instead on keeping her arms spread wide, letting her wings fill with air. She caught an updraft just as she plunged out of the gravity field, not enough to buoy her back up again but enough to let her circle in place for a moment, to get used to the odd pendulum of mass confusing her momentum.
Then Daisy was beside her. The dogs in their crate were fastened flush against her belly. Not that they found that comforting: even with the wind filling her ears, Scout could hear their anxious whining.
“Got it?” Daisy asked, drawing close to Scout’s side.
“I think so,” Scout said. “Is it far to this port?”
Daisy laughed. “We’re in the middle of a spherical cloud, and all of the ports are on the edge.”
Scout laughed in return. Galactic Central had many spaceports, the largest positioned “above” the two main islands at the “top” of the cloud. Given that “up” and “down” were largely defined by everyone on the islands choosing to orient their islands with their unique gravity fields the same way, the distinction was purely academic. And given that no edge of the bubble that contained the atmosphere was any closer to the central islands than any other edge, the main port being on the edge directly overhead was doubly academic.
But there were many other ports all around the edges of the bubble, most grouped together by common interests. Trading ships mostly moved in and out of one cluster of ports, passenger vessels another.
Scout didn’t know which port they had come in through, only that Daisy had been able to dock a stolen ship there, get Scout and the dogs off, and exchange that ship for a stack of coins before the authorities were any the wiser. Scout expected where they were going would prove to be, if not the same place, a very similar one.
And indeed, Daisy led her to a small, isolated port, as far from the part of the cloud the Tajaki trade dynasty inhabited as it was possible to get, and not part of any cluster. The island they landed on was barely more than a bare patch of rock, just large enough to hold the half of the building that stood within the contained atmosphere. There was just room enough for them to touch down and fold their gliders before entering the doorway to the dark interior.
The place looked like it had seen better days. The waiting area was ample, but there was nowhere to sit. Scout could see marks on the floor showing where benches had once been bolted down. Now there was nothing but skittering dust bunnies that danced across the floor to pile up closer to the walls.
The storage rooms, on the other hand, were packed to maximum capacity. And someone was lingering in each of those doorways, not waiting, just watching as Daisy and Scout continued down the long hall.
The vaulted roof had an occasional skylight, the only sources of light in the space. One pair of skylights, Scout was still looking up into the pinkish gray cloud that encased Galactic Central. The next she was looking up into the black of space.
“This way,” Daisy said, as the main hallway split off into a web of smaller corridors. They climbed a ramp and went down another long corridor that ended in an open airlock.
“Captain Dieu-le-Veut!” Daisy called, catching Scout by the arm to keep her from stepping through the airlock.
“Who wants to know?” a woman called back. It didn’t sound like her mood had improved since Scout had seen her last, on the ground outside the public house.
“Ruby Peach,” Daisy called back, then made a little face at Scout as if flinching at her own alias.
“Ruby Peach owes me money,” the captain snarled.
“Not yet she doesn’t,” Daisy said. “Permission to come aboard?”
“Cheeky!” the captain snapped. Then Scout heard a metallic clang and imagined a hand grasping a ship’s bulkhead to pull a body up out of a chair, then a deeper series of clangs as her steps drew ever nearer.
It looked like they had woken her up. Her flame-red hair had pulled loose from its braid, dancing in a cloud around her head as she ducked inside her ship’s airlock to glare out at them.
“Who’s this?” she demanded.
“Passenger,” Daisy said. “You’re about to get the second installment as soon as we get these crates on board. But you’re not to leave and spend it on wine. We’ll be leaving in a hurry once we have the other passengers with us.”
“This job is starting to sound like more trouble than it’s worth,” the captain grumbled.
“It’s exactly what we agreed to,” Daisy said reasonably.
“Maybe I give back the advance and we call it even,” the captain said. “It’s not like I’ll have an opportunity for cargo or work out the way you’re going.”
“Fine,” Daisy said brightly, ignoring Scout’s jaw dropping open. It was far too late to start changing the plan now. But she remained silent. Surely Daisy knew what she was doing. “If you just fetch the money, I’ll count to see that it’s all there, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Well,” the captain said. “We did have an arrangement, as you said. You can stack your crates through there, in storage, and pay me the second bit as promised.”
“You can’t leave the ship while we’re gone,” Daisy said firmly.
“I do believe I only agreed not to leave the port,” the captain said testily.
Scout cast her mind back to her short walk through the port.
She hadn’t seen any sort of dining or drinking establishment, but surely there must have been something tucked away in a corner . . . ?
“You have to stay in the ship,” Daisy said, pulling Scout in after her so she could shut the airlock door. “We have something that requires looking after.”
“That wasn’t part of the agreement,” the captain all but snarled.
Daisy didn’t respond, just bent to open the larger of the two crates, the one containing Shadow and Gert. They came bounding out to run to Scout, then skidded to a halt when they saw the stranger towering over them.
All the anger drained out of her face. For a minute, Scout thought she saw sadness there. But then a smile appeared as she dropped down to one knee and held out her hands. Not a particularly friendly smile, not one that seemed to get much use, but the dogs only recognized that someone wanted to be friends. They approached cautiously, both eschewing the metallic hand in favor of the fleshy one. The captain spoke comforting words to them in a language Scout didn’t recognize.
“We won’t be long,” Daisy said. “All of our stuff is in the other crate, and our friends will be traveling light.”
The captain didn’t seem to hear, lost as she was in scratching first one dog’s ears, then the other’s.
“We’ll be in a significant hurry when we return,” Daisy persisted.
“I’ll be ready,” the captain said. It sounded like she wanted it to come out more snappish than it did but she couldn’t manage that and smile at the dogs at the same time. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”
Daisy and Scout slipped out of the airlock, closing the door behind them before the dogs could quite figure out what was going on.
“You’re sure we can trust her?” Scout asked. She hated leaving her dogs with strangers.
“Captain Jocquette Dieu-le-Veut has no friends or family and seldom works with a crew,” Daisy told her as she wrapped her arm around Scout’s and led her back out of the port. “What she did have was a dog. Decades old, that dog was, and her only companion. She’s been out of sorts since he died. When I first saw her in the public house, she was mourning his death. That’s how we got to talking. I would trust her with any dog’s life implicitly.”
“What about our lives?” Scout asked.
“We can trust her greed,” Daisy said. “As long as we have money she wants that she doesn’t get until the end, she’ll do the job.”
Scout didn’t say anything. It truly was far too late to start changing the plan.
But if Captain Jocquette Dieu-le-Veut were truly motivated by money above all things, why hadn’t she noticed that Daisy hadn’t paid the second installment before they had left?
10
As much as Daisy insisted that with the technology the Months had access to it made no difference, Scout still longed for the cover of darkness. If only they could wait for nightfall to sneak inside, she wouldn’t feel so exposed.
But there was no nightfall here. Only the constant pink gloaming that never quite felt like day either.
Daisy had made enough close passes to the compound to know the Months' security team tracked all glider traffic around their island and had no compunctions against stunning teenagers who drifted too close.
But the workaround she had come up with still terrified Scout.
“You’re sure these will work?” Scout asked as they traced lazy circles around each other. They were so far below the bottom of the Months’ island that it was a barely visible black dot above them. Then a frond of gray cloud drifted between the two of them and their target, and she couldn’t see it at all.
“I wish we could have practiced more,” Daisy said. “But that might have tipped our hands. Just remember, we worked out every bit of the plan. You’ll be fine. And if not, I brought a spare glider for each of us along with the ones for the others.”
She tapped the bottom end of the cannister strapped across her back beneath her own glider.
Scout wasn’t reassured.
“I can go first,” Daisy offered.
“Talk me through it one more time,” Scout said, examining the frankly frightening equipment she had let Daisy strap around her waist. She had thought dangling a crate on a line had been hairy enough.
“Dive down to get speed,” Daisy said, counting off steps on her fingers even as she banked around Scout. She flew with such ease she made her winged glider seem like a mere fashion accessory. “Pull up sharp, tuck your wings in tight, and then before you lose momentum, fire the rocket.”
Scout gulped hard.
“We’ve studied the layout together a million times. I know you can find the drainage gate we’re aiming for,” Daisy said.
Scout managed a small nod. She had indeed studied the schematics and images from Daisy’s own optical implants, but that wasn’t the same as actually seeing it. Daisy had seen it, just once, just before the security team had stunned her and left her to fall.
Her version of events after that moment had been a bit muddled. But she had somehow made it back alive, so . . .
“We’re not trying to get through it under rocket power,” Daisy said. “It’s just one big push at the bottom, and you let the momentum take you up. At the bottom of the island, the effects of the gravity field will negate that moment. Just catch hold of the grate before it does.”
Scout gave an even tinier nod.
Daisy wasn’t the only one who wished they had had time to practice. Scout didn’t even know how to make her body do those things.
“Okay, I’m off,” Daisy said. She spread her wings wide, feeling for the swelling of air beneath her to drop away. Then she gave Scout a wink and dove.
It looked like she had already tucked her wings away, her silhouette like an arrow as she plunged through scatters of cloud and fog. But then she spread them wide again, the arc at the bottom of her motion so tight it was almost like she was a ball bouncing back up to some kid’s hand.
Then there was a flare of light, too bright to look directly at. Scout’s glasses compensated just in time for her to see Daisy shoot up past her, almost within reach but moving impossibly fast.
Scout could hear her shrieking in delight, the sound dopplering up and away from her.
Then it was her turn. Finding the swell of air and diving down the far side she had done many times before. Even banking back up again as sharply as she could was a practiced move. It was all part of what Daisy had taught her that first flying lesson, in case she should ever need to evade capture.
Then she aligned herself vertically once more, the bottom of the Months’ compound somewhere in front of her, although it was once more lost in the clouds. Scout took a deep breath, shut her wings with a snap, then triggered the rocket.
Her screams were much less joyful. The intense speed, the way the force of it shook her entire body so that even the bones in her ears were jangling together—that she had expected. But the warmth spreading across her backside?
Were her pants on fire?
Thick clouds wrapped around her, cooling her entire body, and the sensation disappeared. The rocket was now just dead weight strapped around her waist. The wet droplets that struck her upturned face were like little needles, collecting on her glasses faster than the lenses could compensate.
Then she was out of the cloud and could see the bottom of the island zooming down to meet her. She was far closer than she thought she was. She quickly focused on the formations of the bedrock, jagged as if it had been ripped from a planet like a child’s tooth.
A flash of color caught her attention: Daisy waving a red scarf her way. Scout realized she was a couple of meters off target but had no idea how she was supposed to steer. If she deployed her wings at this speed, they would just rip to tatters.
She reached out her hands in front of her. But she knew that wasn’t going to do any good if she crashed into rock at this speed.
Then she was inside the island’s gravity field. She had expected a gradual slowing of her momentum. Wh
at she got instead was a lurching halt, quickly followed by the sensation of falling.
She could taste a bitter metallic taste in the back of her mouth, as if the panic inside her were trying to well up out of her. But she swallowed hard, reached for her belt, and fired her last cable. The anchor buried itself deeply into the rock about a meter off from Daisy’s position.
Scout didn’t risk a look around, just focused on getting up the cable to the safety of the bedrock. She knew the whole point of the rockets had been to move too fast for the security systems to recognize them as a threat.
She definitely wasn’t moving too fast now.
But she was moving faster, and when she did dare to look up from her hands pulling and grasping, pulling and grasping, she saw Daisy had opened the grate and was standing over it, reeling up the other end of the cable even as Scout continued climbing it.
She caught Scout’s hand and guided it to the edge of the grate. Then she grabbed Scout under the armpits to help haul her up, then the back of her pants to all but toss her across the darkness beyond the grate.
Then the grate slammed down with a clang and Daisy let her breath out in a whoosh.
“Guards?” Scout whispered.
“They didn’t see you,” Daisy said, her voice pitched even lower than Scout’s. She was looking through the grate, and the light from the sky beyond lit up her face, then fluttered as three shadows crossed. But they didn’t stop.
“We’re good,” Daisy said as Scout got to her feet and detached the cable from her belt. Her glasses adjusted to the darkness. They were in a small, squared-off space, something between a cave and a room. Crates and sacks were stacked against the walls but were covered in such thick blankets of dust they must have been forgotten centuries before.
“This way,” Daisy said, and Scout followed her down a narrow hallway. She could hear the sound of running water long before the hallway ended in a catwalk with no railings that extended over an open channel of water.
“What is this?” Scout asked.
