My heart fell into my stomach. Collie took my arm. “Come on,” he muttered.
In the plane, he didn’t speak again until we were safely back up in the air. “You know that most of the news is propaganda, right?” he said, raising his voice over the engine.
“Not always,” I said tersely.
“No. But—”
“We’ve been expecting a major battle any day,” I interrupted. “We really can’t hold out much longer. Our main airport took a bad hit a few weeks ago. If it’s not just propaganda, and they’ve gotten both airports this time…”
I stopped, scraping my fist against my lips. Ingo. Harlan and Percy. Fern, so newly in charge. How old had that news been, anyway? What the hell was happening?
“All right,” said Collie finally. “Try not to think about it.”
At least he wasn’t telling me that everything would be fine. I exhaled. Finally I nodded. “Let me fly for a while, okay?” I said.
Yet as the Merlin ate the miles, I realized that not thinking about New Manhattan just made more room for images of toppling buildings – a giant fireball.
Lunar eclipses were only visible at night. The attacks against Calgary and Puget had been scheduled for tomorrow; the eclipse would follow a few hours afterwards.
I recalled again Calgary’s peaceful streets and felt sick. On a personal level, I somehow felt that if we could save the city where Ingo and I had grown so close, the two of us would have our future together. The thought made no sense but I clung to it.
As if reading my mind, Collie said suddenly, “Are you happy with him?”
I glanced over, startled.
“Manfred,” he said, as if I might not know who he meant.
“I thought personal questions were off the table,” I said after a pause.
“All right. Sorry.”
The Merlin hummed to itself for a few beats. “Yes, I am,” I said.
Collie’s voice was soft. “Good. You deserve to be happy.” He studied his hands. “I don’t know him very well. But he’s always seemed like a good guy. Dependable.”
“He is,” I said. “Ma likes him,” I added before thinking.
Collie shot me a look. “Yeah?”
I shrugged, suddenly remembering the night that Ma had brought out the sherry when Collie and I had gotten together. “Well…she didn’t bring out the sherry,” I said. “But yeah, she likes him.”
I kept my gaze away from Collie’s wedding ring. I hoped that the idea of asking him if he was happy with Kay Pierce was ludicrous, so I didn’t.
A few more minutes passed. We were entering the mountains now, the landscape below rumpled like an unmade bed. Collie sat gazing out the windscreen.
“Remember darkest Africa?” he said finally.
“What?”
“When we were kids. You wanted to go explore ‘darkest Africa’. You’d read about it in a book, or something.”
It started coming back. I banked, keeping north-west, and the starboard wing rose. “We planned to take a boat there, didn’t we? A plane and a boat both.” It had made sense when I was ten.
“You planned.”
I glanced at him. “I thought we both did. Up in the hayloft that time.”
His soft snort was almost a laugh. “Amity…I had enough on my mind dealing with home. I was just playing along so that I could stay for dinner.”
“It was only pretend,” I said, confused. I felt my forehead furrow. “Why are we talking about this?”
The cockpit was bright with sunshine; it winked at his stubble. He sat fiddling with his wedding ring. “I was just thinking about it.” Finally he looked up. “Hey, did Mac tell you that Sephy’s pregnant?”
“Yeah, he said.” I smiled, glad of something hopeful to think about. “Do you suppose that’s why she finally married him?”
Collie’s mouth quirked. “Maybe.” He took a sip of water from the canteen. “Remember how we used to joke about having ten kids?”
We’d talked about it all the time. A faint nostalgia came. Those days had once seemed so golden. “I remember.” I took the canteen from him. “Ten was probably a little excessive.”
“Ten too many,” Collie said. At my quizzical expression, he looked slightly sheepish. “I’ve never wanted kids. But I knew you probably did someday, so it seemed like a good thing to say.”
I stared at him. “What would you have done if we’d actually gotten married?”
“I don’t know. Had a secret vasectomy?”
“You would have, wouldn’t you?” Despite everything, I was almost laughing.
“Yeah. Knowing me, I would have.” Collie glanced back at his ring. He cleared his throat. “Listen…I know you’re wondering about me and Kay.”
Faint trepidation stirred. “It’s your business, not mine.”
“I know. I want to tell you.” Collie sighed, looking tired. “She’s different in private. When it’s just the two of us…I guess I care about her more than I should.”
“Are you in love with her?” I asked, chilled.
“No,” he said finally. “But…I had to get very involved, right from the start. She expected it.”
“You were sleeping with her even last February?”
“Yeah.” Collie gave a rueful laugh. “Not any more though. I think she’d shoot me on sight.”
My thoughts were tangled. I had no idea what to say, so I said nothing.
“When I married her, I was playing a role, but maybe in a way I wished…” Collie grimaced. The world hummed gently past.
“I’ve told her things I’ve never told anyone,” he said. “She just seems to understand me. And I know who she is, and I despise what she’s done. But part of me still cares about her anyway.” He looked down, rubbing a fist against the opposite palm.
“I wish I didn’t,” he said softly.
From nowhere, I thought of the boy I’d once kissed in our barn. Sadness stirred.
“Well, you’re here now,” I said. “That counts for a lot.”
“Yeah.” Collie exhaled and seemed to straighten a little. “Actions, not thoughts.”
When I spotted another plane in the distance, I frowned – but it was so far away that we could evade it easily, if need be.
“They’re high up,” I said, watching. “Must be at least thirty thousand feet.”
Collie hadn’t seen it. When I spoke, he followed my gaze. He sat up slowly, eyes widening. He grabbed for the map. “Change course – go east and take it higher – now!”
His urgency jolted me. I jammed down on the rudder and threw us into a barrel roll; mountains and sky spun. I pulled out, watching the altimeter. Twenty thousand feet – thirty.
“Collie, what is it?” I cried.
He craned against his straps to look back at the other plane, his body rigid. “Oh no,” he murmured. “Oh no, no…”
Suddenly I realized where we were: Calgary was a few miles to the west, sprawling against the horizon in my mirrors. I hurriedly twisted to look back too.
The other plane was just over the city. A shape tumbled from it, so small it was almost invisible. It glinted like a dust mote.
“No!” I whirled towards Collie. “You said it wasn’t till tomorrow!”
“It wasn’t!” He reached for the stick. “Keep climbing, damnit! ”
No. No. This could not be happening. I kept climbing, and climbing, until the cockpit was cold and I’d taken it as high as the Merlin could handle. I thought I might throw up and it was nothing to do with the altitude.
I didn’t really see that, I thought frantically. Collie’s wrong, he has to be wrong…
Suddenly I grit my teeth and took us into another barrel roll, heading west again.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to know,” I whispered, my fingers tight on the stick. The clouds had thinned. From this high up the earth was a curved, serene mass, softly green, with few features. At first I saw nothing and desperate hope filled me.
Then f
rom the direction of Calgary a ripple came: something big, blooming outwards. It grew. A moment later, the mushroom cloud was clear against the horizon.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Half an hour later, I landed at the small, remote airport which was expecting us – the last one in Can-Amer’s holdings. Collie had arranged everything; this time the fitters were sympathizers.
I was numb. From Collie’s face, he was too. We sat out of the chill in the small office while the fitters refuelled the Merlin.
They were clearly shaken. The flash had been visible from here, they’d said, lighting the sky. Collie and I had seen the plane turn back towards the bomb factory – I prayed that meant the second nuke wasn’t on it and the Puget bombing of millions hadn’t happened yet.
“Why was it early, do you suppose?” I said. The words tasted acrid. I kept thinking of the rushing wind that toppled buildings – the fireball half a mile across.
Collie scraped his hands over his face. “The only thing I can think of is the battle in New Manhattan,” he said finally. “If it’s really that bad, maybe they decided to ramp up the plan early to force a surrender.”
The fear for so many people I cared about on top of what had just happened threatened to drown me. I leaned forward on the desk, rubbing my temples.
After Collie and I had seen the mushroom cloud, I’d somehow gotten the plane heading east again, though my mind was screaming, two hundred thousand dead.
Seconds later, though we were probably ten miles away, the Merlin had bucked as if hit by another plane and I’d cried out.
Collie had looked sick. “The…shock wave from the bomb,” he’d said. Then he glanced at me. “Amity, if they’ve already bombed Puget, and you show up claiming to have new orders…”
“I still have to try – check it out at least,” I said hoarsely. “If there’s any trouble I’ll say there’s been a mistake. Mac will back me up on the phone when they call him.”
It sounded flimsy even to me, but what choice did we have? Collie nodded without speaking.
Neither of us had commented on what I’d be attempting if the plan still went ahead…and what that shock wave would be like at a much closer range.
Now Collie sat massaging his eyes. “I wish I could go with you the rest of the way.”
“You can’t,” I whispered.
His presence at the factory would raise too many questions. Beyond this point was WU territory. The factory was still almost a thousand miles away. An auto waited for Collie, for him to take wherever he was heading.
Collie let his hand fall. “I know I can’t,” he said shortly. “But I wish I could.” He got up abruptly and went to the telio set that sat on a shelf. He turned it on and fiddled with the dial.
Unbelievably, all that came on was music. I stared blankly at the curlicue speakers as an old waltz played.
Neither of us spoke for a while. Then we both looked up as one of the workers came in. “Your plane’s ready,” he said. “We fuelled the spare tanks too.”
Back outside, the Merlin sat waiting, its nose pointing towards the afternoon sky. A line of ragged spruce trees grew beside the runway.
Collie walked me out to the plane. I hadn’t asked where he was going next, and he didn’t volunteer it. Thinking of what might be coming, I wondered if this was a final goodbye. Collie had been so much a part of my life – I’d been so in love with him, once.
I slapped my gloves together. “Well…thanks for everything,” I said awkwardly.
“I wish to hell it was more.” Collie hesitated, studying me with worried blue-green eyes, the cool wind ruffling his hair. “Your family is the best part of me,” he said at last. “I guess that’ll never change.”
The spruce trees whispered to themselves behind us. I put my hand out. “I wish you all the best,” I said. “I mean it. You deserve to be happy, too.”
Collie’s expression grew still. He shook my hand. Our fingers gripped each other briefly, then interlocked. He squeezed hard. “Good luck, Amity,” he said softly.
I touched down on the runway a few hours later. The factory that Ingo and I had discovered over a year ago rose to one side. Scaffolding covered some of the buildings. The landscape looked transformed, the brown hills now green – though to the north, I could still see snow in the mountains.
The bomber was in view, sitting in an open hangar.
I undid my straps and slid back the cockpit hood. It was late afternoon, still full daylight this far north. I clambered out and dropped onto the wing.
“Hi,” I called as a couple of fitters came jogging up. “I’m Amity Vancour. I need to see Commander Sheridan as soon as possible. Blunt at Corporate sent me.”
Commander Sheridan was the head of this facility now that the WU had seized it. Mac had briefed me on all the names. The fitters looked surprised, but helped me down from the high wing.
“Well…sure thing. Come on in, Miss Vancour,” said one. He was about my age, with a shock of vivid red hair. He grinned. “If you don’t mind my saying, it’s an honour to meet you.”
I forced a smile, wondering if he knew about Calgary, and how he could look so cheerful if he did. Please, don’t let them have bombed Puget yet.
We walked through the fresh, chilly air to the office. The fitter got me a cup of coffee as the receptionist called Commander Sheridan. I managed to give only a casual glance to the bulletin board where Ingo and I had found the photos the previous winter.
Now it held pictures from a company party: smiling people wearing festive hats.
The receptionist put her hand over the receiver. “He’s not expecting you, Miss Vancour.”
I let consternation cross my face. “Isn’t he? Mr Blunt was supposed to get in touch with him.” I glanced at my watch. “It’s pretty urgent. I was escorted across enemy territory to Redwing. I’ve just flown for fourteen hours.”
She relayed this, eyebrows up, then nodded to me. “He’s on his way.”
A telio sat on a cabinet in the corner. I longed to ask her to turn it on – I was desperate for news of New Manhattan, along with everything else – but stayed silent, sipping the coffee.
Arvin, I thought dully. He was the Resistance worker who’d sheltered Ingo and me for almost a month in Calgary. He’d been frightened but kind.
Did you feel anything when a nuclear weapon dropped on you? Did you have time to be afraid?
A man in a blue uniform appeared through the door, younger than I’d expected. His dark hair grew in a widow’s peak. “Miss Vancour? I’m Commander Sheridan.” He put out his hand and I rose and shook it.
“Nice to meet you, Commander.”
“Please, call me Ed. Sorry, my office is back outside again.” He gave me a quizzical look. “We weren’t expecting you, or I’d have had a jeep waiting.”
“That’s all right. Sorry, Mr Blunt was supposed to be in touch.”
We went outside again – “Ed” opened the door for me – and drove to a building a few minutes away, travelling through streets of large grey buildings. The one we stopped at had planters to either side of the front door, as if flowers grew there in springtime.
When we got into Commander Sheridan’s office, he motioned me towards a chair. “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
“I’ve just had some, thanks.” I managed to keep my voice neutral as I said, “Ed, I’m sorry to get right to business, but there’s some urgency. Corporate want me to be the one to drop the second bomb. In fact, I thought they wanted me to drop the first one too.”
Ed froze as he started to sit down. He sat the rest of the way, and said, “Oh?”
My blood beat rapidly as I reached into my jacket. “Here’s the order,” I said, pulling out a piece of paper. “They’re worried about the public’s reaction – they thought having me be the one to do it might help.”
I stayed silent as he read the fake order. Mac had drawn it up before he entered New Manhattan, to have it ready if I said yes.
Ed rubbed his ja
w. “Well, this is news,” he said finally. “I’ll need to verify it, Miss Vancour.”
“Amity. Please, go ahead.”
As he dialled the operator, relief flooded me: apparently the second bomb hadn’t gone yet.
“Long distance,” Ed said into the receiver. “I need to reach Blunt at his home number… I must say this explains a lot,” he added to me. “I’d heard that you disappeared on a family matter right before the battle.”
I nodded, trying not to think of New Manhattan. “I wasn’t allowed to say anything.”
As the minutes passed, operators connected each other in a chain stretching across the WU’s holdings. The final one sat in a branch office in Philadelphia. Mac knew her. When the crackling long distance call came in, she was going to connect it to Mac in New Manhattan. He’d met Blunt several times and thought he could get away with it.
I didn’t doubt him. Mac was a consummate actor.
“Hello, Nolan?” said Ed finally, leaning back in his seat. “Ed here. Yes, fine, you? Good… Listen, I’ve got Amity Vancour in my office. She says it’s on your orders.”
His eyes flicked to me. He smiled slightly. “Very spry, considering she’s just had a long flight. How are you?” he asked me.
I smiled too, my muscles going limp that it had worked. “Fine, but please tell Mr Blunt I’m a little surprised the first bomb’s already gone. I thought I was dropping both of them.”
Relief. I’d been terrified that I might not be able to let Mac know the first bomb had already fallen.
Ed relayed this, adding apologetically, “There’ve been crossed wires, obviously, Nolan…I’ve got your order here, but I hadn’t seen it. Rossetti said to move the first stage of Black Moon forward. Yes, of course you were aware…well, what about Puget? Do you still want to change pilots?”
A long pause. He tapped a pencil, nodding thoughtfully. “I agree – it’ll be good to put a known face to it to help bring the public around… No, that’s the only change Rossetti planned to make; still seven p.m. tomorrow… All right. You too.”