Indefinite Article
When Trudy climbed the spiral to the ikran branches in Hometree, she was surprised to find Ableryder waiting for her, even though Alpha Centauri A was barely above the horizon.
"We need to take a trip," said the Ni'awve Mokri.
The muscular female warrior didn't look too happy. Trudy wondered what the big problem was, after all, Trudy was Tipani too now, wasn't she?
"Where?" asked Trudy.
"Hell's Gate," was the succinct reply.
Mixed feelings competed in Trudy's heart. She wanted to see Norm and Max, and the other science 'zoids that she used to cart around from site to site, only...what if they wigged out? What if they didn't recognise her? They didn't know she was alive, let alone a Na'vi. There was no evidence that she had ever been human, at least none that could be seen.
Trudy had not seen her own face since she painted it on the morning of the battle with Quaritch's goons. She had often idly wondered what she looked like, but Beyda'amo had kept her so busy during the day she had never had time to look at her reflection in a still pool, and at night...well,. she was just too damned tired to do anything except eat and sleep.
Jake's Avatar looked a lot like his old human face. Perhaps Trudy still looked a little like she used to, although she knew she had the large eyes of the native-born Na'vi, not those of an Avatar, a human-Na'vi hybrid.
"Ok," she said reluctantly.
It was a long flight, although before long Trudy began to recognise up familiar landmarks. When she saw the deep scar of the open-cut mine, she murmured to herself, "Hell's Gate tower, this is Samson One-Six, requesting permission to land."
Even though it was only mid-morning, the bare rock of the mine had heated sufficiently for the familiar thermal updraught to cause the two ikran and their riders to rocket up several hundred feet in altitude as they crossed the mine boundary. Nari'ong squealed in dislike, so Trudy leant further forward to caress his neck reassuringly. "It's ok, my baby," she whispered, thinking loving thoughts through the link to her ikran. "I should have warned you."
She looked down in to the mine, to see that the massive machines that had gouged the earth were now still, and green was starting to sprout in many spaces on the bare rock. It seemed that Eywa was reclaiming her own.
"What about the automatic defences?" yelled Trudy. "Won't we get shot at? We don't have any IFF transponders."
Ableryder yelled back, "They have been switched off."
Trudy hoped so. Not long after she had arrived on Pandora, she saw a flock of tetrapteron blown out of the sky by the automated See-Wiz guns mounted around the perimeter fence. She had no wish to be the object of idle target practice by a soulless machine. That was why she always used the standard approach and departure vectors, just in case her IFF transponder was on the fritz.
Nari'ong picked up her nervousness when they approached the perimeter fence, jinking about a little bit as they descended. She was relieved to see that the See-Wiz turrets did not rotate and track them. Ableryder was right, thank Eywa, she thought.
The flightline was much emptier than she remembered. There were no Scorpion or Dragon gunships in evidence, only a few Samsons scattered about the field. As the pair of ikran settled to land, a lump rose in her throat. Without a word, she disengaged her queue, slipped to the ground off Nari'ong, and walked over to a Samson placed on her spot in the flightline. It was Samson One-Six, right down to the blue and white bands she had painted on her bird before the battle. She walked slowly over to it, not believing what she was seeing, until she stood at the pilot's door.
As she ran her hand over her name stencilled on the door, she heard a voice behind her.
"Oel ngati kameie, tsamsiyu."
Trudy turned around to see her old crew-chief wearing his favourite fatigues. She hadn't known he could speak Na'vi, and was surprised that he had stayed behind on Pandora. When he wasn't working on the aircraft, he was bitching about the rotten climate, the wildlife, the barracks, the low pay, the crappy fit of his exopack...everything. Perhaps she hadn't really known him, after all.
"Oel ngati kameie," she replied automatically.
He frowned briefly at her, and asked, "Did you fight in the battle?"
"Srane," she replied. Yes. Something stopped her from admitting who she was, or even that she spoke English.
"They look different on the ground," he commented. "As though they shouldn't be able to fly."
Trudy nodded. She had often thought that the Samson was an ugly bird, but she had loved hers none the less. "I thought this one fell in the battle," she said softly.
The crew-chief looked sad. "It did," he replied. "We repainted one in memory of the pilot. She was the bravest person I ever met, even if she had a temper like a rutting hammerhead. She had the courage to do what was right, not like the rest of us."
Trudy smiled at him. "She must have been a good friend." She had always liked Chief Ortiz, despite his continual griping. Life wouldn't have been the same without it.
"She was a cantankerous bitch," he said, "But a good boss. She kept us on our toes." He paused for a moment before adding, "I keep this one in perfect running order, just in case she comes back. We never found her body in the wreckage."
Oh, help me, Eywa, she prayed. I am not strong enough for this. I had no idea that anyone loved me, not even as a friend.
"Perhaps she will return," she said, after a pause. "The hand of Eywa cannot be foretold by mortals."
"Are you here to see someone?" he asked. When she nodded in confirmation, he suggested, "You should go over to the admin building over there." The English words sounded odd to her. "The science people should be able to fix you up. Eywa ngahu."
"Eywa ngahu," she echoed as he turned away.
Unnoticed, Ableryder had appeared alongside her. "Are you a total skxawng? You cannot leave him like this," she growled softly.
The crew-chief was thirty metres away when she yelled out in English, "Chief Ortiz! You call this perfect working order? The damned flying strake is loose again! Can't you do your fucking work right? How the fuck do you expect me to bounce at 0600?"
He froze in his tracks, as though he could not believe what he was hearing, and slowly turned around. Behind the plastic of his exo-pack, his lips whispered, "Chacon?"
"That's La Capitán Chacon to you," she said, smiling.
"I don't fucking believe it," he swore. "What the fuck have you done?"
"I grew up," she said, "just like you always told me I should."
"It is fucking you," he said, walking slowly back, looking her up and down. "Same crappy sense of humour and all. Damn, you're too fucking big to hug. When the fuck did you get a fucking Avatar?" His use of Anglo-Saxon words had not changed for the better.
"I didn't," she said, wriggling the four fingers of her right hand at him. "It's all me."
"Damn, girl," he exclaimed, grinning. "You'll catch it for being out of uniform."
Trudy laughed. "I am in uniform," she said. "Na'vi uniform. I am now Truti'tsakon, tsamsiyu and taronyu of the Tipani clan."
"I always wondered what you looked like under your fatigues," he said admiringly. "I just never thought you were blue with tiger stripes."
She laughed again. "You'll have me blushing, Chief Ortiz. Seriously, though, I'd appreciate it if you don't tell anyone."
He laughed back. "I won't spoil your fun," he said shaking his head dolefully. "There are some science geeks who will be very glad to see you. Now, I have a lot of work to do, so you will have to hold telling me what the hell you've been doing for the last fourteen months until we have some cold beers in our hands."
Fuck, she thought. It's been more than a year. "Eywa ngahu, Chief Ortiz," she said.
"Eywa ngahu, La Capitán," he replied.
