The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1) (22 page)

“What happened?”

“He would not concede, so I paced him.” Hayden rolled his eyes; a gesture Julia suspected he’d acquired from a particular scientist they all knew. “Kept him falling overboard a few times.”

“Oh my God!” She muttered, hands raised in supplication only to fall back to her sides.  “Men! Can’t live with ‘em.”

“Can’t shoot them.” Hayden grinned with perfect white teeth.

Julia huffed out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding and ran both hands through her hair, nails scritching her scalp. “A truth universally acknowledged.”

“I returned him here.  The doctor says he needs rest.”

“No doubt he’ll be out there again tomorrow, and the next day.”

Hayden’s silence confirmed her prediction.

“Colonel Archer has me training new pilots when they arrive in a couple of days.”

“I will stay with him.”

“Thanks, Hayden.”

He nodded; his long hair falling in a silky curtain to hide his face.  He and Mark always covered each other’s weaker side.  She had wondered how her arrival would affect that connection.  But nothing had changed.  If anything Hayden now included her as part of Mark and had her back too.  A person couldn’t help having affection for Hayden.  His strength was matched only by his loyalty and the size of his heart.

She walked over to Mark’s side and in the only intimacy they were permitted, stroked his forehead and kissed his lips.  When she turned to Hayden once again, she caught a glimpse of a rose high on his cheeks before he ducked his head away, boots scuffing on the tile floor.  She knew her love for Mark shone in her eyes and wasn’t embarrassed by it.  Perhaps public displays of affection weren’t the norm in Thuranian culture.

“I’ll be back in an hour, okay?”

Hayden nodded and Julia walked away with the weight of his gaze between her shoulders and the knowledge that Mark was in good hands.

Chapter 17

The conference room was populated with new faces, all of which turned in Julia’s direction the moment she walked in.

“Morning, everyone.  Please take a seat.”

The scuffing of boots and the squeaking of chairs settled down and six sets of eyes focused on her again.  Remembering Mark’s advice that she was in charge and to speak strongly, she cleared her throat. 

“I’m Julia Swift, welcome to Glider Tr-” She gasped as scalding black coffee splashed into her lap, leaving a dirty stain across the lower third of her white tee.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry Miss Swift.” The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty-one. “I’m such a klutz, Momma always s-”

“Hot damn, Milksop!  If you’d aimed a little higher, we’d be havin’ ourselves a wet titty comp right here in the briefing room.”

“Unfortunately, Lieutenant, you’ll have to wait until the end of next month.” Julia gave the young Airman a reassuring smile and gestured to the napkins by the coffee machine. “The men put on an impeccable show to raise money for charity.  I hear Major Dawson’s looking for some fresh meat, if you’d like to sign up.”

There were a few chuckles as she mopped up the worst of the spill and lobbed the soggy wodge into the trash.  Julia could feel the weight of a gaze on her but refused to give the redneck any more ammo. “Now, if nobody minds, let’s get started.”

The peanut gallery remained silent, thank the universe.  Julia released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding and hefted a red binder with the USAF insignia emblazoned on the front cover.  It was thick enough to make a perfect paperweight and made a satisfying thunk when she dropped back to the table.

“This, is your homework.  It contains the technical specs, operating instructions, and an avalanche of terms and phrases to explain how and why the gliders do what they do.”

They tried to hide it, but their deflated enthusiasm was palpable.  She felt for them.  They were here to learn how to fly mind-controlled spaceships, not read manuals written with the military’s own special brand of microscopic attention to detail.

“But in my opinion, the best way to learn is the hands-on approach.  In a moment we’ll head over to the Birdcage and introduce you to the best aircraft you’ll ever fly.” She grinned.  “Again, that last is just my opinion.  Firstly, are there any intelligent questions?”

“Miss Swift?”

“Call me Wings.” Julia offered, and nodded for her coffee friend to continue.

“Will we be flying today?”

“Yes, you’re all pilots.  The best the military’s got, if you’ve found yourselves here on Phoenix.  So the next two weeks will focus on adapting to the gliders’ special abilities and you can’t do that just by reading a manual.  No matter how thick it is.” 

“What do you use the gliders for?” A woman wearing a khaki flight suit instead of Phoenix’s black asked.

“Transporting personnel and supplies to off-world research camps, trade negotiations with other worlds, search and rescue, exploration missions, and as fighters in the event we need to defend the City or our weaker allies.”

It had been a bumpy start, but it seemed to be going well.  The shaking in her hands had stopped at least.  Taking questions was far easier than lecturing men and women who had a hell of a lot more experience than her.  Julia still couldn’t believe she was in this situation, but with Major Dawson taking on Mark’s duties, she was the third-fastest X
2
pilot Phoenix City had.  The universe, it seemed, had a sense of humor after all.

“So, everything then.”

“You’ll be required to fly any and all these types of missions.  I promise you, you won’t have time to be bored.”

The trainees exuded an eagerness to get started and stood as one when she directed them to; exiting the conference room like a row of ducklings following their mother to the pond for the first time.

They crossed the access bridge with its elegant scrollwork and rows of arched windows, overlooking the gardens and atriums of the city center, and into the speechless grandeur of the Birdcage.  The trainees craned their necks to find the ceiling lost beyond the power of their twenty-twenty vision in the overcast sky.  It was one thing to be told about it, or to read it in an orders brief, but to see it for your self was something else entirely.  Julia understood.  She had been on Phoenix more than a year and still the Birdcage, with its metallic chicks resting on their wall perches, had lost none of its wow-factor.

“Right this way, everyone, please.” She called and led the way up Glider eight’s ramp.  A cool caress cradling her mind and tripping down her spine as the console lit up in welcome.

The edginess she’d felt in the conference room had evaporated.  This was what she knew.  This she could share with confidence.  Julia smiled to herself.  The murmur of amazement from the cramped cockpit was satisfying and she looked over her shoulder.  “According to our resident flyboys they handle like the CobraF490.  Excellent maneuverability and speed, but without the G’s you get from the fighters.”

“How?”

“Inertial suppressors make it so you don’t feel a thing.” Julia explained. “Doctor Stephen Garrett - Head of Phoenix’s Meta-Astrophysics Department can explain it far better than I can, Lieutenant, but I’m happy just knowing they work.”

“Fair enough.” The Lieutenant grinned to the amusement of his fellows.

“Gliders enter and exit through the doors over there if their destination is local, say to one of Phoenix’s five moons, or inland.  For further afield trips to neighboring systems, Flight Control activates a portal generated from the silver pillars and feeds into the energy tiles across the glider’s wings.  Like solar panels on your house.”

“Does Flight Control always create the portals?”

“No, the gliders are capable if you upload your destination co-ordinates into their matrix, here.” She gestured to an area on the console between the two chairs.  “Your co-pilot will usually do this.”

Julia gave each recruit a turn in the chair, explained about weapons, navigation, sensors, and the holographic display; answering questions as they were asked.  When it became clear they were ready to go it alone, she led them back down the ramp.

“If you’ll split into three’s and board the crew lifts. They automatically stop at each level for you to board your gliders.  Radio me when you’re at your controls and we’ll take it from there.”

Since Mark’s glider and Rescue one were in the ground rank, Julia was yet to see the crew lifts in action.  She watched, fascinated.  They reminded her of elegant elevators from the nineteen-twenties, only with silver filigree cages instead of brass ones.  When the last of her recruits reached their gliders, she returned to Glider eight, and cued in her radio to the communication systems while the hatch closed.

“Flight, this is Wings, requesting a go for local departure.”

“Permission granted, Wings.  Gliders six through twelve, exit Birdcage confirmed.  Good luck.”

Mother Wings and her gliders surged out the open doors and shot up into the dull steel sky with an eagerness that made Julia smile as she watched their virtual counterparts on Glider eight’s display.

“Your displays have been uploaded with a flight simulation which we’ll begin once we reach thirty-thousand feet.”

When all six were aligned from Glider eight’s wingtips, above the newly constructed target range, Julia radioed her trainees on the open comms. “The goal here is to complete the course with no damage to either the glider or yourselves.  There is no time penalty; this is just to see how well you and your aircraft work together.  Is that clear?”

Each pilot answered with a
yes Wings
and she smiled.  Mark had been right, she
could
do this.  “On my mark, each of you begin your simulation, using your displays to keep track of your position relative to the deck and each other.  Return to current coordinates on completion of your run.  Any questions?”

There were no questions and Julia hovered Glider eight, her gaze focused on the display’s feedback and download data for each trainee’s results.  The purpose of the simulation was to get combat-experienced pilots familiarized with the exceptional talents of the gliders and she was relieved to see most were grasping the nuances easily.  When everyone was back in formation, Julia breathed a sigh of relief.  It had gone well, but then she was dealing with experienced pilots, not newbies straight out of Earth’s Air Force or Naval Academies.  All these pilots had to adjust to was an amazing breed of aircraft capable of shifting through time, cloaking, and firing up to four Thor missiles at a time – using the power of their minds. 

“Superb effort everyone.  Who’s ready to try something a little more challenging?”

“I think I can speak for all of us, Wings, when I say hell yes.” A deep scrape of a voice purred in her ear.

“All righty then, I’ll go first.  Show you all what Phoenix expects from her pilots.” She felt the cool rush in her veins as Glider eight confirmed her system readiness. “Use your displays to follow my progress from here.”

Julia dived into the canyon, just as she had the first time with Mark in the co-pilot’s chair, and every time since.  She tipped to port, then starboard, matching her flight path to the terrain; firing Thors at the static targets before climbing sharply out the far end, and back to her place in the holding pattern at thirty-thousand feet.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it’s done.”

It was satisfying to complete the course, but to do it with witnesses added a bright edge to the adrenalin sparking in her veins.

“Colonel Holden holds the base record for this course, with a one-hundred percent strike rate in forty-eight seconds.  Something to aim for, I think.”  The silence that followed her words told her they’d understood.  “If there are no questions, we’ll proceed in numerical order.”

Aside from two close calls with the S-bends before the pull out the trainees acquitted themselves well.  Two lieutenants scored a hundred percent strikes but their times were one minute plus, leaving them at the bottom of the trainees’ scoreboard. 

It looked as if Mark’s record would be safe a little longer.  But then he flew in a crazy zone, where it was possible for glider and pilot to become one and the same.  Suspended in a reality of their own making.  Julia doubted she’d ever be able to give over that much of herself.  Part of the thrill of flying was the control, commanding invisible forces that fought to bring her down.  Mark had been flying gliders for six years.  He could throw them around the narrow canyon walls like they were paper darts in a hurricane.  Maybe there was hope for her yet.

When the last of the gliders landed gently on its perch and powered down; the ice blue energy panels blinking out row by row, she heaved a sigh of relief. “Well done, everyone, you did great.  That’s a wrap for today.  See you back here at zero-eight-hundred.”

The trainees’ earlier tension had been erased by bubbling excitement as it occurred to them just how cool their new jobs were.  A pilot of a mind-controlled alien space ship in a distant galaxy was, without a doubt, the coolest ride off Earth. 

Julia attempted to put faces to the names as she shook their hands and reminded them to collect their folders from the conference room.  She’d memorize both names and call signs from her files after dinner.  Gray clouds continued to gather, bringing with them an early dusk that left shadow patterns on the access bridge floor.  The trainees had disappeared by the time she reached Flight Control and headed for Colonel Archer’s office to make her report. 
All gliders and personnel accounted for, ma’am; and only three casualties to report; one cup of black-one-sugar, one white cotton tee, and a bruised ego.
She smiled, hands on her hips as she twisted and stretched.  All in all, day one had been a success.

~*~

“Hayden, come in, please.”

“East quay.”

The brusque reply suggested she should’ve known where they were without having to ask.  Her mouth tugged up in a smirk.  He was right.  Where else had she thought Mark would be?

He’d been out on the quay every day for the past week and a half.  Walking the length of the Nahfenite expanse and back, making slow and steady progress with every determined step.  It was working.  Mark could stand straight and complete one length without breaking into to a sweat and gasping for breath. 

Julia didn’t envy Hayden his job of chaperone.  She knew with the combination of Mark’s stubbornness and her own, she would have killed the military commander of Phoenix City on the first day; the first hour.  Hayden’s stoic patience and solid dependability were what Mark needed at the moment, and she was woman enough to own it.  Besides, this way she could enjoy not having Mark’s frustration taken out on her.

When she stepped from the building and onto the quay, Mark and Hayden were halfway along, headed toward her.  She waited; having learnt that Mark would want to finish the length before stopping to talk.

“Hey, you.” Julia smiled, glad to lay eyes on her man for the first time all day.

“Hey, Beautiful.” He panted, splaying his fingers on his hips and drawing deep breaths to slow his heart.

“How you doing today?” She brushed her fingertips across his forehead, his bangs soft over her knuckles.