My emotions were complicated as I watched Jorgen and FM, in turn, accept their pins. I was certainly proud of them. And deeply envious, while somewhat ashamedly relieved at the same time. I didn’t know if I could be trusted to be up on that stand. This solved the problem. I didn’t have to decide.
Deep in my heart though, my world was crumbling. To never fly again? Could I live knowing that?
Jorgen and FM saluted with gloved hands while wearing new, crisp white uniforms. I clapped with the rest of the crowd for the eight graduates, but I couldn’t help thinking that we’d lost at least three times that many ships in the last four months. Not so long ago, a good pilot in the DDF could fly for five years, rack up a couple dozen kills, and retire to fly cargo. But casualties were getting worse and worse, and fewer and fewer pilots lasted five years.
The Krell were winning. Slowly but surely.
Ironsides stepped up to speak. “Normally, you’d expect a bad speech from me right now. It’s practically tradition. But we have an operation today of some importance, so I’m going to leave it at a few words. These behind me represent our best. They are our pride, the symbol of our Defiance. We will not hide. We will not back down. We will reclaim our homeland in the stars, and it starts today.”
More applause, though I gathered—from conversations around me—that such a brief speech was odd. As some refreshments were set up on tables to our right, the admiral and her command staff walked away without mingling. More strangely, the newly commissioned pilots followed her.
I craned my neck, and saw a flight of fighters shoot up into the air from a nearby launchpad. Was there an incursion happening? Did they really need all the graduates? After spending the last few days down with my mother and Gran-Gran, I had been looking forward to seeing Jorgen and FM again.
Booms sounded in the distance as the fighters got a safe distance from the base, then hit overburn and accelerated past the sound barrier. A nearby man noted that the important assembly leaders—including those who had children in the graduating class—weren’t in attendance at the graduation. Something was happening.
I took a step toward the launchpads, then shoved my hands in my jumpsuit pockets. I turned to go, but stopped. Cobb was standing there, holding a cane with a golden top. That was odd; I didn’t think I’d ever seen him carry one of those.
Even in his sharp white uniform, he seemed as old as a weathered boulder lying in the dust. I saluted him. I hadn’t been able to face him, face any of them, since being shot down.
He didn’t salute back. He limped over to me, then looked me up and down. “We going to fight this?”
“What is there to fight?” I asked, still holding the salute.
“Put your hand down, girl. You were close enough to graduation. I can challenge that you should at least be given a full pin like Arturo was.”
“I’d never get to fly, so what does it matter?”
“A full pilot’s pin is worth a lot in Igneous.”
“This was never about a pin,” I said. I looked over his shoulder at another flight launching into the air. “What’s happening?”
“That shipyard you spotted? Should be falling out of orbit today. The admiral is determined to get it, and if she wins this fight there could be hundreds of new spots open for pilots—more than we can fill.”
I finally lowered my hand from the salute, watching this second flight go supersonic. A sequence of distant cracks sounded in the air, rattling dishware on the refreshments table.
“Spin?” Cobb said. “I didn’t think you were one to—”
“I’ve heard the stars, Cobb.”
He immediately fell silent.
“I saw the eyes,” I continued. “A thousand pinpricks of white light. More. Millions of them. As one, they turned to watch me. And they saw me.”
Cobb went white as a sheet. His hand trembled on his cane. We stood practically alone on the packed earth of the parade ground.
“I have the defect,” I whispered. “Like my father.”
“I . . . see.”
“Was he ever erratic before that day?” I asked. “Did he show any signs before he suddenly turned and attacked you?”
Cobb shook his head. “He saw things, heard things, but nothing dangerous. Judy—Ironsides—always told him that even if the defect was real, he could overcome it. She fought for him, defended him. Stuck her neck out, until . . .”
A third flight launched. They were really committed to getting that shipyard.
I looked up toward the twisting shadows of the debris field. I sighed, then unhooked the radio from my belt and handed it to Cobb.
He hesitated, then took it. I could see from his worried eyes, his pale face, the truth. Knowing I’d seen those eyes . . . it changed his mind. He didn’t want me to fly. I was too dangerous.
“I’m sorry, kid,” he said.
“It’s better this way,” I said. “We don’t have to worry about what I might or might not do.”
I forced out a smile, then turned from him to walk toward the refreshments. Inside, I was breaking.
The person I’d been four months ago would never have accepted some phantom “defect” as an excuse to keep me from flying. But I wasn’t that person anymore. I was someone else, someone who couldn’t look at courage and cowardice in the simple terms that she once had.
I’d ejected. I’d nearly crumpled under the weight of losing my friends. Even ignoring all of this craziness about hearing the stars, I wasn’t certain I deserved to fly.
It was better if I just let it all go. I lowered my head and turned away from the refreshment tables, not wanting to be around people.
A hand grabbed me by the arm. “And where do you think you’re going?”
I looked up, ready to punch . . . Nedd?
He wore a goofy grin. “I missed the actual ceremony, didn’t I. I thought for sure I’d be safe coming a few minutes late—Ironsides always talks for like ten hours. Where’s Jerkface? FM? I need to congratulate them.”
“They’re flying a mission.”
“Today?” Nedd said. “That’s dumb. I’m supposed to wrangle them into joining us for a real party.” He seemed genuinely upset as, behind us, a fourth flight of ships rose into the air. Nedd sighed, then grabbed me by the arm again. “Well, at least I can wrangle you.”
“Nedd, I didn’t make it. I ejected. I—”
“I know. That just means you won’t take demerits for leaving the base for the party.” He tugged me after him. “Come on. The others are there already. Arturo’s family has radio access. We can listen to the battle and cheer them on.”
I sighed, but that last part was intriguing. I let him tow me off after him as a fifth flight of ships rose into the air and flew the same direction as the others.
“Cobb said the admiral was going to try to salvage the shipyard,” I explained as Arturo set a large, boxy radio on our table at the restaurant—rattling the drinks. “Nedd and I saw at least five flights take off. They’re serious about this.”
The others gathered around. It was good to see them again, and strangely refreshing not to see condemnation in their eyes. Kimmalyn, Nedd, Arturo. The rest of the dim restaurant was empty. Just us and a couple of younger teenagers not wearing flight pins—probably the children of field or orchard workers.