Windrunner's Daughter (6 page)

“No-one need ever know.”

Glowing with new purpose she returned to the sphere, found her warmest outdoor clothing and pulled on the padded jacket. She put a spare mask in her pocket and checked the levels of cyanobacteria in her O
₂
canister. There were enough in there to keep cycling her air for another couple of weeks. Plenty of time before they would need flushing and replacing.

Lastly she scooped up the water jug. The family’s drinking water came from filters deep underground. Surface water, apart from that in Lake Lyot, was still limited, although more was appearing every year as the air temperature continued to increase, unfreezing the Martian water and, with it, more and more dormant indigenous life.

As the jug filled, Wren watched the closed curtain and listened to her mother’s shallow breathing. What if her illness was the result of another hybrid microbe, like Caro’s? If it was, would any of the colonies have a cure? Aaru housed the scientists, who might be creating new drugs, but Vaikuntha had the biologists, experts in the local species, they too might have an answer. Eden might even have some herb that would offer a solution, a genetic modification perhaps.

She shook her head, unwilling to acknowledge, even to herself, that she was already planning a Running route: Vaikuntha to Aaru via Arcadia, then to Eden … and back. She would look for her brothers at each stop.

She frowned at the jug. How long would she be away? If her mother drank the jug dry, she would never be able to reach the tap. Quickly, Wren filled every mug, cup and pan in the house. When that was done, she surrounded the alcove with the containers.

Her mother hadn’t eaten since she became ill, but Wren cut a loaf into chunks and left that by the bed with some of the hard soy-chiz she knew she liked.

There was only one more thing for her to do. Back in the cabin Wren tipped the bottle of analgesics onto a plate, then she opened the curtain.

She bent to give her mother a kiss and Mia groaned as she woke. “Wren?”

“No-one’s home. I’m going to find help.”

“What kind of help?” Her mother struggled to sit.

Wren pushed her gently back. “There’s medicine here.” Wren put the plate on the floor. “Have some when you need to, I’ll bring more back with me.”

“You’re scaring me. What have you done to yourself?”

Wren pushed one hand through her shorn hair. “All these cups have water in and here is food. Do you understand?” She held her mother’s hand until she nodded.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find Colm and Jay.”

“Y-you’re going on a Run?” Her mother sagged.

“I can do it.”

Long fingers tightened in Wren’s, so dry the skin crackled. “It’s forbidden.”

“I know.” Wren hid a shiver. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s dangerous.” Shadows filled her mother’s eyes. “I know you’ve listened to your brother’s lessons, but you can’t do your first flight alone. And you don’t know the route your brothers took.”

“Then I’ll find a cure myself.”

    Tears teetered on her mother’s cheekbones. “What if something happens to you?”

“I won’t let you die.” Wren set her jaw.

    Her mother huddled over a coughing fit that brought tears to Wren’s eyes. “You’ll be leaving me alone,” she gasped. “Like your father and your brothers.”

    “I’ll be back in two days. Three at the outside. I promise.”

    “Three days.” Her mother touched Wren’s face with hands that still shook from coughing. “You look so much like your father.” They sat like that for a moment, neither wanting to let go, then Mia’s arm dropped, too exhausted to hold on. “But you have my eyes,” she sighed and closed her eyes. “When you see your brothers, tell them I love them.”

Wren nodded and her throat felt like wood. “I love you.”

    The reply was so quiet she could hardly hear it. “Love you too.’

Wren left her mother’s curtain open so she could see the airlock, then she hung Jay’s spare goggles over her wrist, scooped up the wings and walked away.

With a breath that tasted of hope, Wren pressed her palm on the pad and, when the airlock cycled round she stepped outside. She did not look back.

Chapter three

It was a short walk to the Runner Station perched on the landing strip. No-one had been in since Wren had cleaned up after her brothers a week before and the smell of stale sweat lingered; she could taste it even through the filters of her mask. Wren left the airlock open in an attempt to freshen the room and a tiny sand snake slithered inside.

All but one of the wing stands stood empty. Wren stiffened as she tried to remember the last time there had not been at a full complement of wing-sets in here. Where were all the Runners? Maybe she would find out.

With a shudder, Wren unwrapped Jay’s old wings. They emerged from the blanket like a butterfly from a chrysalis and when she hung them from the stand the silvery material dropped in folds to hang a hand-span above the floor, only slightly shorter than the larger pair on the stand behind them.

The thin metal struts of ‘her’ wings looked fragile as bird’s bones and when Wren breathed out through her mouth, the material rippled.

Her hands shook as she stroked one rubbery airfoil; then she turned and slipped her arms inside the straps that hung from the front. She buckled the belt tightly across her throbbing chest and found that her wrists fit comfortably into the bracelets.

Wren studied her hands; unexpectedly steady. She took a deep breath.  She was going to find her brothers and help her mother.

“What are you doing?”

Wren spun as the airlock filled and instinctively she stepped back, trying to hide her wings in the gloom.

    “I knew it - I knew you’d do this.” It was Raw. Triumph glowed like emerald fire in his eyes.

    “What are you doing here?” Wren hissed. Her hands came up and Raw laughed.

    “You think you can fight me?” He stepped forward and the lock cycled shut behind him. “Do you know what the Council will do when they find out what you’re planning?”

“And you’ll enjoy telling them. Go on, run.” Wren glanced towards the closed exit and her heart thudded.

“You think I’m stupid as well as ugly.” Raw glowered. “I leave you alone and you’ll be gone when I get back.”

Wren glared.

“Give me the wings.” Raw held out his hands, as if she would just take them off and hand them over.

Wren shook her head. “I can’t give wings to a
Grounder!
I’m going to find my brothers. You can’t stop me.”

“Watch me.” Raw stepped closer, his bulk filling the hut. “Women don’t Run. You said so yourself. It’s sacrilege.”

As he reached for her, Wren retreated behind an empty stand. Swiftly she grabbed the heavy tripod and hefted it in front of her. Raw paused long enough for Wren to give the wood a swing. The stand whistled past his face and it was his turn to take a step backwards.

“I hate you,” he hissed. “I hate your family.”

The wooden stand felt as heavy as a tree under the weight of his hatred. “But you helped me before, why?”

Raw sneered. “I wasn’t thinking straight. Give me the damned wings.”

“No!” Wren gripped the stand tighter. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He made no answer, but his eyes glittered in a shaft of light.

Wren blinked. “I’ve done nothing to you.”

Raw’s sudden laugh made her scuttle backwards. She stumbled against a low shelf and almost fell. At the last second she remembered to raise the stand and caught Raw in the ribs as he lunged. The impact shuddered along her arm.

He stopped his advance. “You’ve done nothing to me?” He turned his face so that his scarred cheeks caught the light.

Wren flinched. “
I
didn’t do that.”

“
Runners
did it,” Raw spat.

“Did not.” Wren’s denial was immediate, but Raw simply looked at her until her defiance faded.

“Five years ago my mother was ill, remember Caro’s disease?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Your father was having a dispute with the Council. He wouldn’t Run for the cure until they agreed payment terms. We thought she was going to die. So I came up here …”

Wren gasped. “You tried to steal some wings. That’s … that’s …”

“I had
no choice
.” Spittle spattered her wings like beads.

“But if we lose wings they can’t be replaced. Every time a Runner goes down, another wing-set gets lost and there can be fewer trades, fewer messages.” Wren shuddered.

Raw gestured at the straps over her chest. “You’re doing it.”

Wren opened her mouth then closed it. She’d heard her brother’s lessons, she was better prepared than Raw, but really, was what she was planning any different?

Raw saw her face and snorted. “Your father beat me and kicked me out, then he Ran for the medicine. Gave us enough for my mother … but nothing for me. That was my punishment.”

“You
got
the cure.” Web frowned. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“He relented … eventually. But not before
this
.” Raw ignored the wavering stand and leaned so he could hold his scarred face close to Wren’s. She winced as he pointed, unable to take her gaze from the pocked landscape that was his left side. Her hand with the stand in it began to sag.

“You want to know the worst thing?” Raw’s fists clenched. “It isn’t that my mother nearly died because of
your
family. It isn’t that I’ll never be able to take my turn on the Council, because no-one will deal with me. It isn’t that I’ve been forced into an apprenticeship engineering airlocks and maintaining solar panels, so no-one will see me in the Dome. It’s that I’m now so
ugly
and so
useless
, that the Women’s Sector won’t even consider my application for the choosing. I’ll
never
have a partner.”

Wren’s eyes widened as the truth of his words crushed her heart like a fist.

“That’s right.” Finally he reached for her.  “Why should you get to save your mother when I had to wait for your father to save mine?”

Wren used the stand to knock him sideways. “Get away from me.”

His hands clawed at her shoulders, but she twisted and ran for the door. She felt her wings catch on something and knew he had her. But the material was slippery as oil and Raw’s curses followed a crash as he lost his grip and fell into one of the other wing-stands.

Wren tossed her weapon aside and slapped at the airlock, racing out before it had completely cycled open. Then she sprinted like never before, heading unerringly towards the edge of the cliff. She had thought to take some time to prepare herself, to replay her brother’s lessons in her mind, but now she would just have to Run.  

Raw’s shouts spurred her on, but she couldn’t lift off without Jay’s goggles. Barely missing a step she pulled them from her wrist and slipped them over her eyes. She was pulling up her hood as her feet hit the platform; it bounced slightly under her soles, boosting her to run even faster.

Wren returned her focus to her sprint. She knew Raw was behind her, but she didn’t turn. She had to be running as fast as she could when she leaped from the platform, and she couldn’t go any faster than she already was.

Her arms pumped by her sides and her wings flapped noisily, muffling Raw’s shouts with their music.

A blue line blurred past her feet. This was her last chance to stop. Once she passed the red line, a few strides further on, her momentum would take her over the edge, even if she changed her mind.

For his sake, she hoped Raw stopped chasing her in time.

Wren did not consider stopping. She pounded past the red line and the ground fell away. She was no longer on Elysium Mons. Now she was running on a platform built over air.

Twenty lengths below her a net waited, but a falling Runner could miss it if caught by the wind and kilometres below there was only the bone-yard, where every Runner who had ever made a mistake lifting off or landing at Avalon inevitably ended. She put the idea from her head. She had to think only about her own launch.

The end of the platform was a blur. Wren’s heart pounded in time with her feet. She had seen her brothers do this a hundred times, she had heard their lessons; she could do it too.

Two steps before the platform ended there was a green line. As her right foot thudded onto it Wren threw out her arms. With a flick of her wrists she locked the wings. She allowed a wave of relief to wash over her then she squeezed her eyes closed and leaped from the spring-board. Her body arched.

At the end of her jump she lurched downwards, but Wren kept her elbows locked as she had seen her brothers do it and the wind caught her. It swept her up, filled her wings with a rattle and whisked her away from Raw’s angry cries, the safety net and Elysium.

At first, Wren let the air simply carry her. Fighting an impulse to return to Avalon, she focused completely on the tension in her arms and legs and the anticipation of another nauseating drop.   

Gradually she became used to the idea that she hadn’t plunged to her death and her breathing began to slow. She kept her legs stretched behind her and her arms straight, but, tentatively, she relaxed her muscles, allowing the wind to hold her limbs in position.

She still hadn’t opened her eyes.

She was picturing her brothers reciting their lessons at the table. The boys often struggled to recall the instructions that her father gave them while Wren stabbed her sewing with vicious frustration and offered the answers in the confines of her head. A thrill of fear shivered through her as she thought of how her father would react to her flight.

Had Raw been telling the truth? Her shoulders shook and she wobbled and scrubbed the thought away. She had to picture her father’s flying lessons, not imagine him refusing medicine to a dying boy.

His voice rippled through her memories. “Relax your tongue first and your other muscles will follow. You don’t believe me? Try it now.”

She tried it. Only when she focused on her tongue, making it flop loosely in her mouth did she realise how much tension she held there. Pleased that the trick had worked she thought about his next instruction.