"Is there anyone in there?" The concerned repairer waved her hand in front of the dazed pilot's face.
"I'm here," Ravi answered from the floor, long limbs stretched across the catwalk, "And I'm not moving, let them step on me if I'm in the way."
The pilot of the green Ingrid placed a foot lightly on the young man's chest and asked the others, "Shall we find someplace else to rest? We won't get any more information for awhile."
"Great Whit, just abuse and abandon a man too tired to move. You to Reigha—be my guest."
Reigha smiled but didn't accept his offer. She placed a palm flat on Kuro's forehead, the other she rested on her own.
"Che! Acting like that in front of everyone, how shameful. Completely disgraceful," Ravi complained.
"Oh hush," Reigha chided the pilot of the blue Ingrid.
"Don't you think it's disgraceful, Kieran?"
The young boy stared down at the other pilot with perceptive cerulean eyes, "No."
"Well it is."
"Especially when he's around to pay homage to," Whittaker supplied with a smirk.
"Do you really need the attention?" Kieran asked.
Injured, Ravi replied, "Yes, I do."
"Such shamefulness," the pilot of the red suit sat on Ravi's stomach and ran the tips of his slender fingers across the youth's cheek.
"So! You're the one who's been teaching Whit to be a pain," he accused with a knowing grin. "And how can you do something like this without even smiling. Your face is so damn calm, almost sickly sweet."
"Shall I?" Kieran simply questioned, blinking.
"What?"
"He wants to know if he should smile," Whit sai. "I wonder what you'll answer."
"No, there should be a sneer on his smug, round face; but never a smile, that's just too much." Ravi shoved the shorter boy off and continued, "I'm not talking to either of you again. In fact I don't feel it's worth talking to any people ever. I'll just lie here. What do you think of that, Whittaker?"
"I think you're face is more like a circle than Kieran's. So you shouldn't call his round."
Arden joined the small group, the light smile he always wore on his lips growing as he watched them, "What's going on?"
"A temper tantrum because nap-time was interrupted." Reigha leaned against the railing, "Anything new to share?"
"Ummm, no, not really," he looked to the ceiling. "Nothing new, the higher-ups still haven't decided or said anything and the meds. aren't quite finished examining everyone. So I don't really know if there's much to say?"
"Most likely they'll just board them on another shuttle and send them to whatever colony they were heading to," Whit theorized.
"That's what makes most sense but it will take time for one to get here, GIS doesn't have one big enough to transport them all," Reigha added.
"The infirmary is full so they're going to have as many GIS people share sleeping quarters as possible so they can split up the rest of the shuttle survivors comfortably."
"How many are there?"
"Nearly thirty left to find beds for."
Ravi grabbed the Arden's ankle. "So they're really from Zion, all of them lived on that planet. I wonder what it's like."
Nobody said anything in answer to the boy's musings. Since the Goddesses had returned from the battle nothing had been quiet, and as this silence between them grew they realized that the sounds all around were just abstract noises and nothing had seemed real. When they had succeeded in meeting GIS with the shuttle shielded by the Ingrids, the fragile ship barely able to hold with their help, none of them spoke any more than to give instructions or to answer questions. Doctors, repairers, and crew had rushed to help the injured passengers, to bring them aboard. Hours had passed and the reality was just barely hardening, yet what they had just been talking about was substantial, not serious, not meant to be life-altering, but a conversation somehow tangible, the only thing since returning that showed them anything vaguely real.
None of the pilots, in fact no current member of the crew on board the vessel had lived on Zion; the planet that they were devoting their entire lives to protect. These people, who had survived a direct attack from victim, were evacuating a planet and still even though everyone had abandoned the many lands of Zion the Goddesses, pilots, and all those who had chosen to be there would fight, because someday the shuttle passengers expected to return home. So many people now living in colonies wanted, someday, the choice to live on that planet.
Ravi sat up. "Well I'm off, I'll go mingle and see what I can find out, offer my room, see what small comfort I can supply. It will be difficult to find out what Zion's like but I'll do it. And it wouldn't hurt if I questioned a few pretty girls." He sauntered away, waving a hand over his shoulder and calling back, "I hope you know I'm doing this all for your benefit."
"I really doubt that," Arden told the others, "but I guess it's a good thing that he can keep such a carefree attitude."
If any of the other pilots had tried to carry a similarly flippant mood it would have been instantly seen for the pretense that it was. Kuro wondered if Ravi's mannerisms were truly genuine or as falsely fabricated as everything else seemed to be. He flexed his fingers, remembering. Ernn Laties' hand, just visible in his peripheral vision, didn't move with the small motion, though the pilot could still clearly see it in his mind as if he were still in the cockpit, still out in empty space as if the last battle had not ended. Looking at the others, Kuro knew that they too would take longer to forget this skirmish. Being with them, hours in and out, weeks and months past, he had learned this, understood the other pilots as much as anyone could; just like a remainder of the first fight as a Goddess pilot stayed always, some of the memories of this battle would never be completely dismissed.
Reigha watched Kuro, while continuing the friendly chatter with the others. By unspoken agreement no one asked any questions about what had happened out there, leaving the repairer to glean what little information that was volunteered. She supposed the boys were entitled to keep to themselves anything they wanted, but it didn't stop her from worrying. 'And really,' she thought as she excused herself from the group, 'he is too quiet today.'
Before he had completely pulled himself from his thoughts Reigha was gone and Kieran was walking away with Whit, both pilots' casual stride matching perfectly without effort. For a brief moment Kuro debated whether he should join them or not, then he looked at Arden, the shorter boy's back to him as he leaned over the railing of the catwalk. The orange Goddess's pilot closed and opened his hand, slowly curling each of his fingers in and then spreading them out. Kuro wondered if Arden was feeling the same way as when, minutes ago, he had made the same movement, missing the synchronization of the Ingrid.
The noise of the repairers working went on unhindered as Kuro took a few steps closer to Arden, adopting a similar pose at the railing. Relatively, at present, the Goddess hanger was one of the quietest places on board GIS, without being entirely silent. The virtually regular sounds of machinery were somewhat comforting. Both young men stayed several more minutes in mutual observation of the small undertakings, leaving together to wander the hallways when their continued, unnecessary presence was noticed. The absence of speech was neither uncomfortable nor uninvited, but it was felt, and perhaps the words were even missed.
Arden and Kuro stopped their leisurely meanderings after someone rushed out of the infirmary, cutting across their path and speeding in the direction they had come from. Kuro's attention was held by something that the closed doors now hid. He stepped backwards and leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded across his chest.
"Eight," the younger boy loudly whispered, giving Kuro a quick but expansive smile, one that was neither made of nervous shyness nor just an entirely Arden expression, but almost made of apologies.
"Eight," Kuro repeated in a reverent tone, "And her?"
Arden followed the older boy's gaze, knowing what Kuro was asking. "I don't know. We could go in and see," he offered, unsure.
Nodding, Kuro pushed away from the wall.
The pilots were well acquainted with the infirmary: the sterile smell, the cool smooth metal surfaces, the competent staff, and the unwelcoming equipment. Not far from where they had entered, occupying one of the beds was the subject of their brief interview in the hallway; surrounded by machines, motionless, tubes, tape and wires, sticking out all over. They looked around at the other people in the other beds, all with various degrees of injuries, but none with a many monitors, or beeping and moving contraptions.
Instead of trying to find someone to talk to the two pilots moved to the side, keeping a respectful distance and waiting for someone to either send them away or answer their questions. One of the doctors approached them, greeting Kuro and Arden in an overly familiar manner, congenial smiles and obliging cordiality despite obvious fatigue.
"That was useless," Kuro mumbled, mostly to the translucent reflection in the window, trying to vent some of his building frustration. "It was completely pointless for the doctor to even talk to us. Why didn't they just chase us out?"
Though they asked about everything they wanted to learn and all their questions were answered the two pilots still felt unsatisfied. In his opinion the complete ignorance they had been in might not have been bliss but it certainly had been less aggravating. Ernn Laties' pilot didn't lift his forehead form the cool glass pane as he grumbled more complaints, using perhaps more woods than he had in quite awhile, except for in the infirmary. "Eight," Arden's one pathetic word interrupted Kuro's muttered disconnected chain. "Eight people died and it's all my fault."
When, leaving the infirmary, they had walked straight to this place Kuro hadn't paused to find a reason for Arden's continued presence. To both pilots it felt natural, perhaps needed, to see if Zion was still there, nearly always visible from at least one of the many windows aboard the vessel. Kuro had allowed himself, for a fraction of a time during his murmuring, to assume that Reigha had encouraged the younger pilot to stay with him out of some necessity to show her unwanted worry. He would never have admitted that it was guilt that had prompted Arden to stay and listen to all that the doctor had told them. Not once could Kuro fathom that Arden was to blame.
Blame, Ernn Laties' pilot realized, was the annoying emotion that kept surfacing through the feelings of frustration and the underlying sense of his own uselessness; those self pitying thoughts of being outmoded; a thing to be replaced at the earliest possible date. What good would have come of giving them voice? Would it have made them less or more of a burden? Anything he said wouldn't have cheered either pilot; there was nothing, no right choice of words, to cure this.
Sure, in his mind, that in his earlier days as a pilot he could have stopped both the Ingrids from colliding with the shuttle, Kuro sighed a barely audible, "No."
Before his EX had waned Kuro knew that he could fight in the Ingrid a little longer, just long enough, but that time was spent. Micha's too true and heavy words "You're the last one," now emblazoned over every thought. Before, that was ages ago now. That sureness of being able to solve everything seemed to never at anytime been valid.