darted away from Najima, straight toward the alley wall. He bounded at the vertical wall before springing off it back toward Najima. She scooted away as Otto leapt and scrambled at the wall before lunging his rifle, held by the barrel, toward the emergency escape grating above the alley. Remarkably, it caught, and with much struggling, Otto lifted his muscular body to the grating above.
"Not bad for an old man," Najima said. She honestly didn't think he could make the jump, and had not even thought to use the escapes as a route to the roof.
"Old man? Hurry up, baby girl, or you'll be late for school," he goaded in reply, lowering his gun's hilt. Copying Otto’s movements, Najima spring-boarded from the wall, scraped up the other side, and wrapped her hands around Otto's gun. With a bit of struggle and creaking metal, Otto lifted her up.
"For being a tiny girl, you sure do weigh a lot."
"I'm sure I should go on your diet then. Do all terrorists make curry as oily as you?" After an exchanged laugh and breaths of rest, they climbed the stairs past tinted apartment windows toward the roof, a maze of solar panels and rain catchers that sat empty, their bottoms only filled with weeks of sand and dust.
"Say what you will about my food. At least it keeps me fit, little lady," he replied with that grin as he tightened his gun's strap diagonally across his back. With a deep breath, he turned, raced toward the edge of the building, and leapt into the air. He sailed, legs flailing, until the soles of his boots came upon the edge of the building across from them. After a quick stumble, Otto found his balance and turned back to Najima. She could not see by the moonlight, but she knew he was grinning.
In a hushed yell, Otto said, "Don't leave me waiting too long. I thought you were up for a challenge."
Najima felt her own grin rise, and without looking at the edge, she turned away from Otto, and picked up a running start, before lunging into the air. She watched the orange-lit, tight street pass below her. The distance was easily two meters across, which was a terrifying distance for a jump from 4 stories up; her legs wagged in the air before her feet found solid ground far past the edge of the opposite roof, much further than Otto’s landing. Her inertia forced her into a roll, which she bounced up from onto her feet, her black hair flying wild in the cool desert night.
Najima spun on her toes to face Otto, and curtsied in her shorts, tongue out. "Challenge accepted."
"You weren't even curious about how far that jump was?"
"Curiosity is more fun when its hands-on. I won't know how far a jump is until I jump. So I jump."
"You're a little crazy. I like that," Otto said, grinning all the while, as they crossed the roof.
"Says the man who is a terrorist. You define crazy."
"Says the girl who wanders through space on a raft. Ever thought about how easily you could die out there?"
Instead of replying, Najima raced ahead of Otto and jumped across the much smaller gap of the alleys that separated the building. "Danger is comedy. I laugh," she called from the other side as Otto took his jump.
"Tell me this then," he said with his smirk, "what can possibly drive a school girl to drift around the stars."
"I'm looking for something I lost," Najima replied mechanically, wiping her finger along a nearby solar panel.
"Lost what?"
"Something special. Only one of it in the entire galaxy."
"I know that feeling," he said in a muted tone.
"So I'm not going to stop until I find it."
"Be lucky you can find it. Some things that you lose are lost for good." Otto picked up speed and raced to the edge of the building, taking another leap like their first jump, crossing the street below. Najima followed after, this time her heel catching on the edge of the building. She felt herself slipping before Otto grabbed her above the elbow and pulled her onto the roof. They stared into each other’s eyes. Najima saw something poignant in the terrorist's gaze as she thanked him.
They walked quietly for a moment before Najima spoke. "What did you lose?"
Otto stopped, but only for a moment, before resuming his pace. It was as if he had crashed through an invisible spider's web. "My wife. In The Quell." Najima had almost forgotten. She could not even imagine how horrific the event must have been, and she searched for words, but found none.
Thankfully, Otto continued, his voice lilting to a rhyme. "’When the fires rain upon / Rangpur's golden lands / Will they see the force of / Of the people's fiery hand.' War poem. It went viral on the Stream a long time ago, during the Independence War between the Commonwealth and the Empire. Something about it always inspired me."
The two hopped across the next alleyway, to the last section of building before reaching their destination. "Are you supposed to be the fiery hand?" Najima asked.
"The fiery hand is democracy in the face of imperialism. But sometimes, yes, I like to think I'm the fiery hand." He turned his head toward Najima. "We're a lot alike, you and I. We both won't give up for what we believe in. And we both want to do good, to the point that we're not scared for our own safety. I could use someone like you on my team, Najima.”
Otto turned to look at the two moons on opposite ends of the sky before turning back to Najima. “We're planning something big when this mission goes well.”
“When it goes well?” Najima said teased. “Not if it goes well?”
They reached their destination, separated by one last small jump, and turned to the brightly lit facility across the main alleyway below. Both took a wide leap before landing on the bright rooftop.
“I don’t need ifs with you by my side,” he laughed. “Even if you don't travel with us once we leave Nanda, I would like you to fight alongside us. What do you say?”
The magnet. Otto's idealism, despite his history, was impossibly attractive. His history made her want to hurt for him, while his conviction inspired her. How could she say no to helping him, or to helping the people he wanted to save? "We might make this work."
That grin.
"That's what I like to hear." Otto put his hand to his communicator. "Priya, we're here."
"I have you on camera number seven, over on your right. Say hi." Both turned to a camera on a pole, almost invisible in the night sky, as it wiggled left to right in a wave. They waved back. "Alright, I've also deactivated basic security protocols on the facility. Bri wants to know what material the windows are made of?"
Otto approached the nearest skylight, made of what looked like clouded glass. But when Otto knocked upon it with his hand, it sounded dense and heavy. "It's a foggy crystal."
Bri's voice came from the other end, in Najima and Otto's ears. "I planned for that material too. Check your satchel, Otto. It'll be the orange one."
Otto produced one of Bri’s odd chemical cocktails in the form of an orange ball. Bri's voice returned to the line in their earpieces, and told Otto to throw the ball hard at the window. As he did, the ball shattered, spilling a white, unnatural substance into a glob upon the window. It looked like a glob of pure white snot, and the rancid smell twisted Najima’s nose. It seemed to do nothing more than sit pitifully until Najima saw the glob begin to spread across the window. After a few moments, the substance had eaten the window away.
"Well done, Bri," Otto said, promising to reward her with some chemistry equipment later. Najima laughed as she heard Bri giggling in the background. "Brat, you there?"
"Waiting, boss," Bratindra replied.
"We're going to start the clock. Don't be late. Priya, it's your call."
"Good luck," said the voice of Annapurna from the other end. She sounded tense, which gave Najima an odd feeling, before Priya spoke. "Security is down... now. Make it quick."
Otto nodded to Najima before he eased himself into the room. After some situating, he dropped into the dark room. Najima followed suit, and landed with a clack upon the concrete ground. The room was filled with aisles of high shelves, all lined with boxes.
"Now remember," Otto whispered, "We're looking for boxes with red wrappin
g. It's like Yule came early. Split up and stay quiet. Remember, there are guards outside."
The two crept around the room, sifting their eyes through the endless boxes. Military hardware, unconstructed weaponry in various containers, plasma grenades and plasma mines. The amount of military hardware here was almost baffling. "What's all this stuff doing here?" Najima whispered.
"Not important. Find the boxes," Otto hissed back. She continued to cross the room, weave through the aisles with a hurried pace as Otto whispered four minutes.
A noise filled the room, which sounded like air escaping. It was quiet, and lasted less than a second, but loud enough to stop Najima in place. She heard Otto's boots slide to a stop as well.
"What was that?" Najima asked, but Otto mumbled a reply of unconcern. Weaving through the aisles, Najima was a little concerned that she and Otto were so far apart. That's when her eyes halted on the fourth row of boxes on an aisle. Two boxes wrapped in red wrapping. They did look like Yule presents.
"Otto," Najima whispered when suddenly the noise from before came back. It was much louder than before, and much closer to Najima, although she couldn't see in the darkness. She spun around as Otto asked what was wrong from across the room. That's when the noise pronounced to the room, one simple cough. Najima only had time to turn and focus her eyes low, instead of high. In a chair, tucked in a corner against a wall along the aisle she was in was a tubby soldier who had just woken from