Chapter 3: The Lake and the Crane
Diana closed the door of her apartment. She was drenched from head to toe from the storm outside and shivering hard all over. She slid down the door frame and took a seat on her red lacquer floor. Tears hidden by rain-damp cheeks.
Sets of images flashed before her. Memories half her own and half those of others who no longer around to witness them.
"Eject, eject, eject!" cried Kono.
"No you fool! Don't do it!" A blast of gray smoke and hissing noise consumed her senses. She remembered the rank taste of sulfur and perchlorate in her mouth. The heavens shattered above her as a blinding blue sky converted instantly to shards of glass which expanded outward then disappeared in the supersonic airflow. Adrenaline surged through her and slowed the passage of time until all the world was a viscous blur of color and light. The air around her was like play-dough as she struggled to move. She saw her co-pilot lurch forward in the belts before snapping back to his seat and a cloud of gases erupted from the volcano below him.
As he accelerated upward, a brilliant tumbling shard of glass collided with his shoulder, releasing a cloud of dirty red ochre which sprayed her visor in great splotches.
"COWARD! YOU COWARD!" she screamed as the lifeless body disappeared behind her, tumbling end over end. The plane's nose dived downward. With a resolute effort she lifted her arm and wiped the drops of blood from her visor and commanded the control stick to rip the plane around. She saw the metal rod sway between her legs as the metal Sunbird twisted sideways in a steep bank. Half her stomach lurched and the craft groaned under the g-load. Waves of angry turbulent air rose from leading edges of her wings. The rumbling noise punished her unprotected eardrums. She looked over at her left wing and saw a faint orange fluorescent stain on the ailerons. Hydraulic fluid.
She was lucky to make it back. Kono wasn't.
Little green and blue dots drifted aimlessly around her apartment like fireflies in a halogen forest. Small potted plants decorated the nooks and corners of the place, lit by bright points of brilliance scattered across earthen walls and red reflective floors. Hanging from the ceiling above her red velvet couch was a spider plant with its long green tendrils reaching down low enough to scrape the floor.
A puddle formed underneath her, expanding slowly toward a bank of beige carpet. The water took on the color of the floor below. A sea of blood on her hands. She held back the memories. She focused on the steady drip, drip, drip from her hair onto the hard floor.
She stripped off her scarf and dropped the soaked fabric on the ground. It fell quickly with a heavy splatter. Then she wiped a hand through her soaked hair and began to remove the rest of her cloths, leaving them in a great soggy heap.
She got in the shower. A steam of water poured down on her. Pleasant and warm, cleansing the day.
She outstretched a hand toward the nozzle and adjusted the flow without touching it.
High, then low. Just like the throttle of the Sunbird, like extending the landing gear or flaps. She moved her hand back and forth, feeling the water press back on her outstretched fingers.
What is it like to control the weather? She thought.
When she finished, she stepped out and tied a red towel around her breasts and walked to her bedroom where a large bay window overlooked a glowing city and hazy night.
The rain had ceased and now there was only cold still night air and the dim wane of gibbous moon. The streets still lit with multicolored loglow, constantly in motion with orange and blue shooting stars of headlights.
Beyond the skyscrapers in the distance was a lone concrete obelisk. A dot of green light sparkled above its door, half a mile away. A halo of condensation formed around her mouth on the cold glass. She drew herself away from the window.
Then she noticed the pale lights in the distance where the Nimbus tree stood.
Oh Darling- why did you say those words to me? All those years ago…
A mist of gray ash obscured his vision in all directions. Blasted tree trunks stuck up out of the water concealed by a layer of smoke that flowed and undulated around his waist. He waded out into some vast and empty lake. The water flat as a mirror. Dead branches floated noiselessly in front of him. A distant voice called out to him from far away.
What happened?
A black silhouette of an old man stood in the water. His translucent hair like smoke. He wore a long black robe with a blue circular emblem on his chest. In front of him, a boy no older than ten kneeled on the ground facing away, his head bowed down. The silhouette raised an arm to the boy's head holding a weapon. The boy looked up and struck out at the man. Then there was a hollow thud and both figures vanished into the smoke.
What about her? What about HER?
He continued to wade outward, pushing away waves of mist with his hands in a breast-stroke motion.
In front of him a fish jumped out of the water and a girl with long hair and horns leapt up to catch it. She was entirely cloaked in shadow. Then she looked at him. Red lights shot out of her eyes like lasers. He backed away and the demon disappeared behind a veil of smoke. He heard another voice in the distance.
"She killed Kono today…Myozaki two weeks ago." He remembered the pilot say to him through a half empty mug of beer. "Some genetic experiment gone wrong."
Instantly the mist vanished and he found himself in a brightly lit bath house.
A demon emerged from the shadow, revealing her long pink hair as she rushed toward him. He backed away as fast as he could and found himself against a wall of cold flat ceramic. Emerald eyes appeared inches away from his face. Smirking red lips and a gentle caress of fingers on his chest "Darling…. Run away with me? ….forget all about those weaklings… nothing else matters…" She opened her mouth to reveal two fang-like canine teeth.
Bright light shocked his senses and he darted upright. An alarm clock rang on his bedside table. He slapped it. Long white curtains draped over a large bay window overlooked a bright sunrise.
His head pounded from the hangover.
A half-empty suitcase lay beside his bed.
In the distance a bluejay called out its morning song.
Get yourself together, Royce. Get that girl out of your mind. She's not the same girl you knew fifteen years ago. She's different. She's changed and you don't even know who or what she is now. She's dangerous.
He slapped his cheeks with both hands lightly.
Just focus on the mission. That's all that matters.
He tore the covers off.
The world looked as if it were submerged in honey. The subtle hexagonal pattern on the Crane's canopy gave the impression of looking out from inside a beehive.
He sucked deeply on the crisp rich stream of oxygen through his mask. A soothing and artificial smell drifted down into his lungs and he felt like each breath could last him several minutes.
"All systems go- except my head," came a joking voice through the intercom. "I'll tell you Roy, you certainly spilled a lot of beans last night."
He squinted his eyes, trying to push the throbbing in his head out of his mind. He grimaced at the thought of what he might have said, then he tried to push those thoughts out as well.
Just focus on the mission.
"Alright Valor Crane, taxi via Kilo to Bravo Five Seven, hold short runway Three Six Left contact departure One Two Zero point Seven when ready."
"Copy." He keyed a button on the throttle and spooled the engine up. The sun burned a spot onto his head through the bubble-like canopy and fishbowl-like helmet. He saw the golden dome of Kristoff's head, then he turned back to the instrument panel in front of him.
"You good after last night?" Kristoff asked him.
"Yeah I'm good. It's been a while since I drank."
"No surprise there. Never thought the great Verbius would be such a lightweight."
"Comes with the territory."
The plane bounced along the rocky tarmac and he looked out at the delicate outstretched wing of the spaceplane. Long spars seemed to heave and flex with every bump and pothole, swaying up and down almost a meter in both directions. He thought they would surely scrape the ground. But they never did.
"Good thing it's just us today." Kristoff's helmet bobbed up and down.
"Less weight." He smiled.
They came to the mouth a large asphalt field.
He keyed the mic again. "Genista departure, Valor Crane holding short runway Three Six."
"You're cleared for takeoff, gentlemen. Whenever you're ready. Boards are clear. Contact North Pacific launch control prior to atmospheric egress Six Seven point Two Eight."
"Copy that, cleared for takeoff runway Three Six."
Sometimes I wish I had the damn optos. Would certainly make chatter a lot less annoying.
He positioned his hand over the throttle pretending he could move it with his mind. But it was no use. The stick sat idle.
"What are you doing man?" came Kristoff's voice.
"Ah nothing, just thinking about-"
"I think you need less bottle and more throttle."
"Once more, Kristoff, once more. On pain of death do all men depart."
"What's that?" The reflective golden sphere turned again to look at him.
He grabbed the throttle and eased it forward. "Some old ass book. Doesn't matter. Nah, today we fly this sonuvabitch."
They faced down a long, wide road which extended before them as wide as a football field and as long as a mountain range. An ant on a road made for giants.