The Diatous Wars 1: Rebel Wing (24 page)

It was well
past dinner when they ventured to the large windowless cafeteria. Field menders worked odd hours, so they were permitted to avail themselves of the kitchen as needed. Calix scrounged a couple of packets of stew from a wall of gleaming silver foodsavers and heated them up in the high-speed warmer. They carried their bowls to one of the long white tables in the empty room.

Aris blew on the stew and watched as tendrils of steam curled between them. She smiled, shyly, when she caught him looking at her.

“It
is
good to see you,” he said. “I miss your hair, though.”

Self-conscious, she pulled the scarf tighter around her bald head, fingers catching on the edges of the bandage at the back of her neck. “It didn’t bother me so much, when the person staring back at me in the mirror was a man. But it’s odd now, to be myself and still have this.”

He smiled. “It’ll grow out. You’ll be your old self in no time.”

She choked on a mouthful of stew.

“Are you okay?” he asked, half-standing, as if he meant to lean over and pound her on the back.

Aris waved him off. “Fine. Sorry.” She coughed. “Just swallowed wrong.”

He sat back on the bench and picked up his spoon, watching her carefully. “You sure?”

She nodded and turned her attention to the food. For a while, they ate in silence.

But it wasn’t a comfortable silence. She kept filling it with unvoiced worries and fears. She kept looking at his face, trying to see the Calix she remembered. Trying to forget that moment in the cave with Major Vidar.

You just need to get to know each other again. Talk to him.
She could practically hear Dysis’s voice, coaching her. “So,” she said, clearing her throat. “Remember that move I told you about? The double backflip freeze?” He nodded. “I did it the first time they let me fly. It was amazing.”

“I should have known you wouldn’t really give up flying,” he said ruefully. “You in Panthea . . . I should have guessed.”

“I was in Panthea for a while. That’s where I got the diatous veil, from this terrifying woman with a snake tattoo on her
head
. For the whole month I was there I couldn’t fly. It was blighting awful.”

“It’s a wonder you survived,” he replied, grinning.

“There was this one mission,” she said, eyes brightening at the thought of Illia. “I had to take an injured flyer to Revening—she was a woman, too—and I thought I was going pass out, the way her leg was broken, all twisted, but—”

“Stop, Aris. Please,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know. I can’t imagine you out there, in danger. I don’t want to. Please.”

Her hand stilled with a bite of stew halfway to her mouth. “Okay, well . . . tell me about you then,” she said. “How has it been here? You’ve sounded so tired in your comms. Has it been really bad—” but before she’d finished the question, he was shaking his head again.

“Let’s not talk about the war.” He reached across the table to touch her hand. “Anything but that.”

What else is there to talk about?

“I think we should Promise,” he said.

Her eyes flew to his face. “You do?”

“Well, yeah. If that’s what you need to feel comfortable back in Lux without me, then it’s worth it to do it now. I don’t want you out here, risking your life just to be with me. I want you to be safe.”

A Promise. It was exactly what she’d been hoping for when she started all of this. Well, not
exactly.
She’d imagined the asking would be more romantic, not so practical. And he wanted her to go home, give up her unit, her flying. She wanted the opposite. She needed to get back out there.

Except that she couldn’t. She wasn’t Aristos anymore.

Dysis’s last words echoed in her mind: “I’ll be looking back for as long as I live. But it doesn’t change who I am.”

Can I really go back? Be the old Aris again?
She met Calix’s eyes. He looked so different; it wasn’t just the new thinness of his face, the tired hollows under his eyes. It wasn’t the shaved head, or his skin, paler now without their daily walks on the beach. It was his expression, which reflected a change deep beneath the skin.

“Specialist Haan.” Major Vidar’s voice echoed across the cafeteria.

She stood up automatically and turned to face him, where he had paused just inside the doorway. “Sir?”

“I need you.”

For a split second she wasn’t sure what he meant, and her heart gave a sudden, unwelcome thud.

“We have a new, very important, mission. It must be executed tonight.”

“But, sir. My veil.” She glanced down at Calix, who was frozen in his seat.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s someone we have to find. And it has to be now.” Already Vidar was turning toward the doorway, his body coiled with repressed energy.

“Who, sir? Did Jax give you information?” She walked toward him, searching his face. His urgency was contagious; she could feel her own muscles tensing.

He lowered his voice, so only she could hear him. “We have to save the Ward of Ruslana.”

Her mouth dropped open. “The . . . Ward? But she’s fine. She just spoke on the news today. I saw it when I was waiting to see Jax.”

His face hardened. “Another statement on how she’s renewed trade with Safara? Supplying them with money and guns in the war?” His eyes were cold. “Whoever that woman is, she’s not the Ward.”

Aris didn’t understand what he was saying. “Who else could she be?”

“Lieutenant Latza saw a woman at the prison, someone being kept separate from the other prisoners. Her face was bandaged but her voice was clear.”

Aris opened her mouth to ask another question, but Vidar went on. “That device you had—I think the technology was used to replace Galena Vadim.”

“But sir, how do you know she didn’t just change her mind?”

“I know it’s not her.”

“With all due respect—”

Vidar stalked closer, until he towered over her. In the bright light of the cafeteria his eyes gleamed. “Come with me.”

With a quick, confused look at Calix, she said, “I’ll be right back,” and followed Major Vidar out of the room.

He didn’t stop until he’d reached an empty office in the administrative wing of the building and locked the door behind them.

“Sir? I don’t—”

The look in his eyes silenced her.

“I know that woman isn’t the Ward of Ruslana,” he said, “because Galena Vadim is my mother.”

“Your
what
?” Aris’s
voice exploded in the small room, and she clapped a hand over her own mouth, shocked at the noise.

Major Vidar sighed impatiently. “My real name is Milek Vadim. I am part of a secret coalition of Ruslanan soldiers my mother placed within the Atalantan Military to help train and support them in their efforts to withstand Safara’s advance. There are groups of us in nearly every unit. Wolfe and Daakon are my fellow operatives. Well, Wolfe was.” He paused, and Aris tried to keep the memory of the last time she’d seen the Lieutenant from her mind.

“Mother never told any of her advisors about the program. She couldn’t outright offer support to Atalanta. She and I organized it and communicated through special comms we set for predetermined times.”

He paced as he spoke, and she could only watch. Major Vidar was from Ruslana? He was the son of Ward Vadim? If she looked closely enough, she could see a vague resemblance.

“Four months ago, right before the World Council, I logged into the approved frequency, but she never responded. I haven’t heard from her since she was ‘released’ from the clinic. I thought perhaps she was being coerced into changing her policies, or grief over my father had affected her. But then you told me about the diatous veil.”

Aris gasped as a new realization hit her. “Your father . . .”

His face tightened. “I couldn’t go home for his burning. I thought maybe it was a trap, a way to draw me out.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued, “Mother never contacted me directly. It was as if she suddenly didn’t know how to reach me. For the past four months, I’ve been searching for an explanation. For some reason why she would go against every belief and value she held dear and support Balias.”

“And you think the Safarans kidnapped her?” She couldn’t believe he was sharing so much information with her. Shouldn’t he be telling someone important, like Commander Nyx?

“Jax said the woman’s eyes matched mine and she had a small, older scar on her throat. He saw it as she fell. It’s my mother, I’m sure of it. They must have stolen or purchased the Atalantan veiling technology.” His expression was grim. Determined. “We need to save her.”

“As she fell?” Aris’s heart pounded in her ears. This wasn’t just some search and rescue mission, a couple of stranded soldiers. This was the leader of a dominion. If what Major Vidar—Vadim—said was true, the political implications were unthinkable.

“They shot her. Lieutenant Latza saw her go down. He couldn’t tell if it was a solagun or tranq. In the chaos, he managed to escape.”

“So, she could be . . .” She swallowed.

“We’re going to get her.” His voice was hard. “No one knows my connection to Ward Vadim, and I can’t take the time to get authorization. You’re the best flyer I’ve got, and I trust you. It’s just you and me on this one.” He stepped toward the door, and she went to follow him.
He really doesn’t care that I’m a girl. He knows I can do this.

“I have to say goodbye to Calix,” she said.

“Fine, but hurry. We leave tonight.”

•••

“No.” The word echoed in the cavernous room.

Calix was still in the cafeteria, sitting at the same table, her bowl of stew cooled to a gelatinous mess across from him.

“No?” she repeated, shocked.

“No,” he said again, standing up. He held out a hand to her. “You can’t go on another mission tonight. It’s too dangerous. And besides, it isn’t your job anymore.”

“But it
is
my job. I have to go.” She reached for his hand, but he dropped it before their fingers touched.

“Aris, no. If someone sees you impersonating a soldier, you’ll be arrested! I won’t allow you to go.” He set his lips in a stubborn line.

Her heart splintered. “You won’t allow me to go? What makes you think it’s up to you?”

“I thought you did all this for me,” he said, looking taken aback. “We’re going to Promise. You have what you wanted. Isn’t that enough?”

“No.” The word burst from her lips. Even she was surprised at its force. She wished being with him
was
enough. It had been, once. But it wasn’t anymore. Hadn’t been, for a long time
.
“I’m sorry, Calix, but this is so much bigger than us. Can’t you see that? This mission is important, and Major Vidar needs me. I have to help.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just going to leave?”

Aris willed him to understand. “I have to go. This is my placement, my selection, in every way that matters. This is who I am.”

She glanced at the Major, uncomfortable with his presence. He had stayed near the door and was acting, at least, like he wasn’t listening. Turning back to Calix, she stepped closer, grabbing his hands. She waited until he met her eyes. “Say you’ll be waiting for me when I get back. That we can figure this out.”

For a long moment he said nothing, just studied her face as if memorizing it. Noting the differences, maybe, as she’d done with his. “I can’t,” he said finally, looking utterly lost. “I’m sorry, Aris. I know you want me to understand, but I don’t think I can. You’re not the same person . . . I don’t know you anymore.”

Aris dropped his hands and stepped away. A wave of ice cracked and shivered into place within her, burning where it pierced her heart. “You were right, back in Lux,” she said, backing up. Her eyes never left his face. “We did change.”

“Lieutenant Latza was
involved in a high-level surveillance mission when he was captured,” Major Vidar said as he walked quickly down the hall. “The prison where he was held is just over the border in Safara, well defended. It’s impossible to find by heat signature; thermal recognition is blocked. And if you’re close enough to get a visual, they’ve already shot you down. But I’ve got the direct coordinates, so that will help.”

“How are we going to get in, if they’ll shoot us down as soon as they see us?” Aris hurried to keep up.

The Major slowed as they approached a blank door at the end of the hall. Inside, she found herself in a warehouse-like room with shelves stacked ceiling high. “We’re going to bring them a prisoner.”

She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but he was hurrying down one of the aisles, a scrap of silco in his hand. When he found the item he wanted, he carried it back to the front of the room. Inside the chrome storage container was a Safaran officer’s uniform, boots, and weapon. Before she had time to look away, he’d stripped and was dressing in the dark gray pants and mottled gray-and-black jacket. There was even a helmet, sleek and black.

She waited for him to take a uniform for her out of the box, but with a sinking feeling she realized that wasn’t going to happen. “You want me to be the prisoner.”

He raised his eyes to hers and nodded, and she saw through the hard-edged Military shell he wore. “Calix was right,” he said softly, “You don’t have to do this. I know you’re not used to these kinds of missions. And I’m not your officer anymore, Aris. You do have a choice. You know that, right?”

“I’m really only good at flying. Don’t you want someone more experienced?” she asked, mind still whirling. “Someone you can count on?”

Major Vidar stepped closer. “
You
are the only person I can count on. Wolfe is gone, and Daakon is back in Spiro. And with the veil tech out there . . . I can’t trust that anyone is who they seem.” He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Except for you. I know exactly who you are.”

The words brought her to the brink of tears.
At least someone does.
She couldn’t bring herself to speak. For a moment they stood in the entrance of that echoing room, in silence, their eyes locked. “I know what I’m asking,” he added. “And what it could cost you. This is your choice.”

Her choice.

Go back to Calix. Go back to being weak, helpless Aris and hope no one ever found out where she’d been for the past four months. Or stay here, with Major Vidar, as a flyer. A soldier. And maybe save a Ward’s life.

It was a choice she’d already made, she realized. Not earlier, when she’d left Calix in the cafeteria. But months ago.

She took a deep breath. “I’m with you, Major Vidar—I mean Major Vadim. Tell me what you need me to do.”

He spared her a small smile and grabbed her hand. “To start, you can call me Milek. Come on.”

They wove through the racks of boxes until they found another that matched the numbers on Milek’s list. This one held women’s clothes: a dark green tunic, flowing pants, and a pair of soft, silk slippers. Another box yielded a shoulder-length black wig. Milek stood by the door while she hid behind a shelf to change.

“Done,” she said, meeting him at the door. She tried to keep her hands relaxed at her sides, but the wig itched.

Milek smiled a little and reached out to readjust the fall of fake hair against her neck. “It’s strange to see you like this, dressed like a woman.”

She rolled her eyes. This getup was as much a disguise as her veil had been. “What’s next?”

Milek swiped the passcard to open the door. “Time to see Lieutenant Latza.”

Jax was asleep when they entered his room, but as soon as the door swished closed, his eyes opened. “Ah. Visitors.”

“Up for a little information sharing?” Milek asked.

Jax nodded, glancing curiously at Milek’s Safaran uniform. Aris perched on the chair next to Milek’s.

Jax smiled at her. “Like the new look.”

Before Aris could respond, Milek said, “We need to get into that prison. Immediately.”

Jax turned his attention to Milek, his expression turning serious. “They’ll shoot you down as soon as they see you.”

“We’ll be flying a Safaran wingjet in.” Milek cocked his head toward Aris. “I’m taking them a prisoner.”

“Ah.” Jax nodded. “In that case, you have a chance. Foxfire is the unit that most often brings in civilian prisoners. Under Commander Eska, I believe. That’s a name you should be able to use with relative impunity. I’ve heard he’s a beast.”

“What’s the layout like? Do you know where the Ward was held?”

Jax shook his head. “No, unfortunately. Most prisoners are kept in a central holding room, called the pen. We only left it for washroom breaks once every three hours, alternating men and women. And ‘interrogations.’” He brushed his fingertips against a nasty purple bruise on his cheek. “Those were held in cells down a long hallway. Two turns: left out of the room, then the second right. That’s all I could glean of the layout. My guess is she must be in one of the interrogation cells. She was never put in the pen with the rest of us. And when she ran into the room during her escape attempt, she came from the left hallway.”

“Do they interrogate all new prisoners?” Milek asked.

Jax nodded. “Upon arrival, all prisoners are processed. Which just means beaten in a private room, far as I can tell. You should be able to get to the interrogation cells easily.”

“Surveillance?” Milek drummed his fingers on his knees. His impatience was a nearly physical force pushing against Aris.

“Cameras in all the halls, but not the cells. Never saw any guards stationed in the hallways. Once the alarm is sounded, you’ll probably have a minute or two before they come after you.” Jax scratched his arm, a thoughtful look passing across his face. “Might get a minute or two more since you’re going in at night. They don’t have as many guards on duty overnight. If you could cause some kind of distraction in the pen, that’d also buy you time.”

“Are the guards armed with tranqs or solaguns?”

Jax scowled. “Both. And they’ve no qualms about going the deadlier route.”

“What about access to the individual interrogation cells? How do they manage it?” Milek glanced at Aris, as if checking to make sure she was still there. She gave him a small nod. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“The cell doors are locked with handprint sensors,” Jax replied. “But because so many soldiers deliver prisoners, each guard has a backup passcard they can distribute to visitors. The card codes are changed every day, though, so the one I stole on my way out won’t work. You’ll have to snag one from a guard.”

“What about our exit strategy?” Aris asked. “Once we get in and find Ward Vadim, how do we get her out?”

Milek glanced at her with a gleam in his eye. “That’s where you come in.”