chapter9: Leave It Behind
Weiss Schnee
Leaving Kiev had been a solemn affair. Katya was the closest thing I had to a friend in this
world (Ruby excepted, if she was actually here), and I felt terrible leaving her behind, both
for myself and for her. We had a connection that few could share. And even after spending
two days with them, I was extremely nervous about travelling with Sam, Jen, and Isaac on
another planet, illegally.
Not that I let it show, of course. I exuded confidence when I stepped aboard the train.
The train was old, dirty, and smelly, but at least we were going somewhere. However, the
ride had been far from relaxing. Sam and Jen had drilled me relentlessly on being Anna
Weiss, Canadian. My background, knowledge about the world, my "legend" as Isaac had
once called it. I only got more nervous when we reached the border and the customs agents
came aboard.
Since they weren't lying about anything, Sam, Isaac, and Jen had no problems getting
through customs. I was careful to observe the customs officer as it happened.
The customs officer was professional and polite, which was good for him and his country
and potentially very bad for me. He seemed to speak excellent I would have to keep my
level, if slightly nervous as any person would be, but controlled to not give away any hint
that I was lying. There were other indicators, too, that I would have to suppress.
When it was my turn, I handed him my passport, which he immediately opened and began
to inspect. "Your name?"
"Anna Weiss."
He nodded and continued examining the passport. Casually, he asked, "You are German? Do
you speak?"
"No, my family hasn't been fluent in generations," I replied, feigning a slight sadness.
The officer nodded and asked after flipping through several pages, "Ah, so you have been
before. You know about Schengen Zone, correct?"
"Yes," I replied confidently.
"What is purpose of your visit?"
"I'm going home, travelling through the EU."
"Okay. How are you doing so?"
"Flying out of Warsaw to Frankfurt, Germany, then to Vancouver," I replied.
"Hmm, it says you are from Toronto. Did you move?" the customs officer asked with
curiosity that may or may not have been feigned.
"Yes, about two and half years ago," I replied. Two and a half was basically drilled into my
brain by that point.
"Ah, I understand," he replied, then asked. "Do you have tickets?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Please show."
I opened my purse and extracted the printed confirmation pages, handing them over to the
officer.
He scrutinized them for a few seconds before handing them back. "Okay. Anything to
declare?"
"No." Hopefully, no one would think anything of the disassembled pieces of Myrtenaster
scattered throughout our luggage.
The officer stamped my passport and handed it back, smiling. "Thank you. Welcome to EU
and welcome to Poland. Enjoy stay in Varshava, yes?"
"I will, thank you," I replied politely, taking my passport back as he moved on to the next
person.
I will admit that I boarded the airliner with some trepidation, although I was careful not to
show it. The machine looked vaguely similar to a tiltjet, but was larger than even the largest
tiltjets, approaching the size of a small airship. Unlike the Dust-powered aircraft of
Remnant, this one burned chemical fuel in turbines to produce thrust, and used primarily
airflow over the wings to stay airborn. Isaac had pointed out, irritatingly correctly, that it
was probably safer than a dust-based tiltjet, but it was unfamiliar and thus disconcerting.
I had seat 19F, a window seat near the middle of the plane. Jen would be right beside me in
19E, and Sam had 19D, with Isaac stuck two rows back with an aisle seat. The cabin was
well lit, but hot and cramped, with the seats narrow and squished together. I hadn't realized
that there were large bins above the seats to put luggage in. I will admit that it was efficient,
but did nothing for comfort. At least they were trying to make it look comfortable with the
design.
In other words, it was terrible compared to even the worst airship, and worse than most
tiltjets. Fortunately, airplanes were much faster than airships and marginally faster than
tiltjets.
I followed the crowd of people and made my way across into the window seat. The seat was
thin and I'm sure the covering was synthetic, but it wasn't too uncomfortable. It wouldn't be
enjoyable for a long flight, but apparently it would only be an hour or two for us. I was... not
as tall as some, so there was plenty of legroom for me. In front of me was a fold-down tray
table and a pocket full of promotional materials. I have to admit, the table was kind of
ingenious, although it was probably as awful as the rest of the cabin.
"It'll be fine," Jen reassured me as she sat down casually beside me, buckling her seatbelt.
I followed her lead, buckling my own. It was pretty similar to systems we had on vehicles
on Remnant, so it wasn't too hard to do, but the fact that we needed seatbelts didn't do
anything to calm my nerves.
"Relax, Weiss," Jen repeated, sensing my discomfort.
"I'm fine."
"It's your first time," Jen reminded me.
"No it isn't," I replied quickly. "I flew here, remember?"
"You're good," Jen complimented.
"Of course I am," I insisted. "I have to be."
That shut her up, though I did regret it somewhat.
"Welcome to Lufthansa Flight 1351," a female voice announced over the speakers. "At this
time we ask that your seatbelt be fastened and tray table be in the up and locked position.
Carry-on baggage should be stored in overhead compartments or below you under the seat."
Sam chuckled quietly, and I have no idea why. The announcer repeated the same message in
two other languages, which I presumed were German and Polish, though I had no idea
which was which. Then she continued onto the next part.
"If you are seated next to an emergency exit, please carefully read the special instructions on
the card in the pocket in front of you. In the event of an emergency, please assume the
bracing position. Life vests are located under your seat and can be inflated by pulling on the
red cord, although this should be done outside of, not in, the aircraft. If evacuation is
deemed necessary, floor-level lighting will guide you to the nearest exit. In the event of a
decompression, an oxygen mask will drop down in front of you. Place it firmly over your
nose and mouth with the elastic strap around the back of your neck and breathe normally."
Well, that's just about the opposite of reassuring. I picked up the card and read it. The
"bracing position" looked less like a bracing position and more like a submission position. If
I was reading the card correctly, in the event of a decompression I had ten seconds to get the
oxygen mask on before I died- well, maybe it would be longer for me.
"Don't worry, plane crashes are rare," Jen said, not reassuring me one bit.
"We remind you that this is a non-smoking flight, with smoking prohibited on all areas of
the aircraft, including the lavatories. Electronic devices may be used on this flight when the
seat belt sign is off, or when permitted by your crew. All receiving and transmitting devices
must have said functions disabled, as they may interfere with the functioning of navigation
and communication equipment."
Okay, if someone's scroll could take down an airplane, why were they still using them? And
why no smoking? I mean, smoking is disgusting and bad for your health, but I fail to see
why it would be bad on an airplane. I guess it would bother people in close quarters?
"It's bullshit, everything important is isolated and protected," Jen whispered. Okay, that was
somewhat more reassuring.
"This and other safety information may be found in an information card in the seat pocket in
front of you along with a menu for our inflight cafe. Thank you for choosing Lufthansa.
Please have a pleasant flight. Remember, if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to
ask any of our crew members."
Then again in German and Polish. Then... I guess that was it. The flight attendants- most of
them were women- walked around, checking to make sure all the bins were closed properly
and everyone was strapped in.
"Cabin crew, prepare for take off," a different, accented male voice said. Seconds later, there
was a jolt and the plane began to roll. I realized at that point that the whine I had heard since
I boarded the airplane was its engines, and that it was now louder.
At least it sounded kind of like a Dust-powered aircraft.
The aircraft turned and came to a near stop, waiting for about a minute. Then it began to
accelerate dramatically, pushing me back gently into the seat. The engine whine had
intensified, and it was quite loud now.
"This is my favourite part!" Jen whispered loudly.
I looked out the window. The thing that we were on- the runway- was zipping away below
us, the features of the airport racing by. Alarmingly, the wings were deforming, with the flap
things at the back bouncing up and down.
Then there was another little jolt and we began to rise. We were still speeding up, with the
engines still at high power, and the airport was disappearing behind.
The shape of the wing began changing, with the flap things retracting into the wing. We
stayed at an angle for a while before the aircraft levelled out and the pilot throttled back on
the engines.
I felt a bump on my shoulder and turned.
"Admit it, you enjoyed it," Jen teased, grinning widely and reminding me of... of someone
else.
The flight from Warsaw to Frankfurt hadn't been too bad, because it was just under two
hours long. They had only served snacks- which were awful, but they were just snacks- and
it hadn't been long enough to become uncomfortable.
Frankfurt to Vancouver was another matter. This flight would be nearly ten hours long. I had
tried watching a movie on the in flight entertainment system, but gave up after about ten
minutes. I guess it would make sense to people from Earth but it didn't make any sense to
me. I was actually glad I wasn't that tall, because within two minutes of the flight taking off
the man in front of me had reclined his seat all the way back. I was bored and I was
uncomfortable and it was horrible.
I decided right away that I hated airplanes and I would be glad when it was all over.
And then there was dinner. I was really glad I had eaten at Frankfurt, even if it was just a
few cookies that reminded me of Ruby.
I surveyed the items laid out in front of me. A bun in plastic that was probably stale, some
unidentified entree in a small plastic tray covered in orange foil, a tiny salad in plastic
package, and a small plastic cup full of some bubbly brown liquid called Coke. A packet of
Italian dressing sat beside a little portion pack labelled butter.
"What is this?" I blurted out as soon as the flight attendant had left. This was without a
doubt the worst dinner service I had ever seen! It was obvious that this would be awful even
to an average peasant.
"It's an airline meal," Jen replied matter-of-factly, tearing the foil off of what I assumed was
the main course.
"Why is it like this tiny unappetizing thing in this little tray?" I stammered, poking at the
tray with my finger.
"Hey, enjoy it, breakfast is usually worse," Sam pointed out, leaning forward as much as his
tray table would allow. "What, were you expecting gourmet china service or something?"
"As a matter of fact, yes." I sighed and tore the foil off the entree. It was some kind of beef,
vegetables, and rice in sauce. Reluctantly, I unwrapped the (plastic!) fork and carefully
placed a bite into my mouth.
It was... actually not too bad. I mean, it wasn't good, but I could eat it. It was at least better
than what I had eaten in Donetsk. I mentally shuddered at the thought.
I sipped a small amount of Coke to wash it down and was surprised by the taste. It tasted
like... Schnee Cola. Not as good, of course- it wasn't sweet enough- but it was palatable.
I tried the bread next, tearing open the plastic package and removing the top from the butter
portion pack before unceremoniously dipping the end of the roll in the soft butter and
chewing the end off. It was a grossly improper way to eat it, but the bread itself wasn't too
terrible.
The salad was still sitting there, so I opened it, tore open the dressing, and poured it over the
leafy greens. I drove my fork through a few of the leaves and placed it in my mouth. The
lettuce clearly wasn't fresh, but the Italian dressing actually tasted like Italian. I guess it was
the same here, or maybe I just got lucky and this was actually considered barely Italian here.
"You're hungry, aren't you?" Jen commented lightly.
"What makes you say that?" I snapped. I was... well, I wasn't that hungry!
"Well, it's an airline meal, and you're, well, you," she replied. "And you're just devouring
that meal."
"Like you said, it's a terrible airline meal," I retorted. "It's not worthy of any dignity."
She went back to her meal and I went back to mine. Before long, we had both finished our
meals and the flight attendant had taken the now mostly empty trays back. The meal had
been... satisfying enough. I mean, it was still awful, but it was edible and I felt reasonably
full and not grossed out after, so I guess it was okay.
I still wasn't looking forward to breakfast, though.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" I asked Sam as we neared the front of the line in
customs and immigration. I had been very glad to step off the plane after that hot,
uncomfortable, non-tasty, exhausting flight, and less glad to wait in line to be interrogated
by a machine.
He shrugged and exited the line, heading to one of the automated passport machines. A few
seconds later, one of the passport officials waved me forward, and I stepped in front of one
of the foreboding grey machines.
It prompted me to select a language. Don't try to look for Valic. Choose English. You can do
this, Weiss.
Then it asked me to insert my passport in the kiosk document reader. I opened my passport
to the data page and dropped it face down.
The machine beeped angrily at me, and I nearly had a panic attack before I realized that it
was just asking me to insert the document the other direction. Calm down, Weiss.
It accepted the passport the second time, and I quickly removed it as soon as it was finished,
as if that would make some kind of difference. The machine asked me for my E311 card
next. That was the form I filled out on the airplane. That had been fun. I inserted the card
into the slot, and the kiosk took a moment to read it before spitting it back out.
The machine advised me to "please wait", making unpleasant noises for half a minute before
finally producing a printed receipt. I took it and headed to the exit.
A serious-looking customs officer barred my path. He held out his hand. "Your passport and
customs form and receipt, please."
I handed him the necessary documents, careful to keep my movements relaxed and my face
neutral.
He inspected them, and asked, "You've been to Ukraine? How was it?"
"It was... less than pleasant," I replied, perhaps too quickly. I added, "Not a good time to
visit."
"Hmm, yeah, with everything that's been happening... I'm sorry to hear that," the man said
politely, closing my passport and handing it back to me along with the other forms.
"Welcome back to Canada, Miss Weiss."
I smiled and took the card back, walking into the next area. It was a much more open space
dominated by a row of those carousel things... baggage claims.
"Number twenty-five," Sam said, striding up beside me. "Bags are already coming in.
They've actually got their shit together today."
Isaac and Jen had already retrieved their bags, and Sam's as well. I immediately recognized
my (indefinitely borrowed) worn-out rolling thing and deftly pulled it off the belt with one
hand. It took two attempts to get the handle out.
We'd already agreed that we would exit separately and meet up again outside in the meeting
area, supposedly to reduce risk. I had my doubts, but nevertheless headed immediately to
the exit, not waiting for the others to catch up.
"Your declarations card, please," another customs officer, this one a woman, requested. I
handed her the card, which the inspected before waving me through. "Welcome home."
I muttered a thank you that I didn't really feel the need to give and stepped through the
umpteenth security checkpoint into freedom. I could feel the tension fizzle away, replaced
with a kind of nervousness and trepidation.
Somehow, Sam, Jen, and Isaac had made it out ahead of me, and by the time I spotted them
they were already with another two. One was another nerdy-looking guy with a messy beard
and hair, and the other was much cleaner and taller. So, this must be the others. But where
was Ruby-
"Hi Weiss!" a red blur shouted before crashing into me and pulling me into an incredibly
tight hug.
"Urp... hi... Ruby... squishing... me!"