formation.
“Where you going, bravo5?” Carey asked.
“I’m having a problem with my auto pilot.” Sara tried to regain control of her craft. She could sense the program that had taken control, but couldn’t seem to disable it. That was a first. As her mind did battle with the computer program, she pulled up the heading. It was taking her back to Kikk—to the middle of the sea where she’d seen the island.
“Are you declaring an emergency?”
“Affirmative. I seem to be heading back to Kilo Papa.”
She heard Carey call the Doolittle. “Bravo2 you’re with me. We’re going to follow her in, sir. The rest of squadron, return to the ship.”
“Negative,” Halliwell’s voice cut in. “Our friends might be monitoring activity. If they think they splashed three craft, they might come back. We’ll send help as soon as we know they’ve withdrawn.”
The Old Man had a point. “I’ll be fine, sir.”
Sara watched Carey and Fyn break and turn back to the ship. She entered the atmosphere at a better speed this time. No bat turns or quick prayers. She waited, half knowing what she’d see and when.
Her ship slowed more and then she saw it. A city on an island. This time it didn’t disappear. The horizon quivered for a moment, then sharpened. It felt like she passed through something.
FM—freaking magic.
“Bravo5?” Carey’s voice was sharp. “We’ve lost you on radar.”
“I’m still here, sir.” Sara looked at her tracking. She could still see the Doolittle. “I can see you on my screen. Are you reading me?”
“Roger that.” Carey sounded relieved. “Report when you’re stable one.”
“Affirmative.”
Sara pulled up her life signs tracking, but got an empty screen.
Sara was just a passenger as her Dauntless made a slow, sweeping approach, then settled, like a broody hen, in an open space between tall buildings. Her top retracted with a hiss. She had a feeling she’d have been ejected if the program could have managed it.
“This is bravo5 reporting stable one.”
“Roger that. Stay put for now. We don’t want you suddenly reappearing if the Dusan are watching.”
“Affirmative.” Sara pulled off her oxygen mask and helmet, unhooked her harness, and then stood up and looked around. That icy chill made a come back, running down her spine and then spreading out like tentacles.
This was the city from her dreams. Ahead was the broad avenue she’d walked down in her sleep last night.
The buildings appeared to be made of stone, with square towers and battlements that reminded her of castles in England and Europe. It looked like broad pathways had wound between the buildings and green spots but everything was overgrown, giving it a Sleeping Beauty aura, only once again with the Tim Burton twist. If there were a sleeping princess and searching prince, they were probably gargoyles or ghosts.
She should stay with her ship, but the pressure to explore was almost physical in its intensity.
Okay, so she was probably going to take a short walk. The Colonel had said, stay put, not stay in your ship. Put could be over there, say by that door that looked particularly inviting. And she’d still be in radio contact.
She shrugged out of her zoombag and pulled out her P-90. Just because she got no life signs readings didn’t mean there wasn’t something here her ship didn’t know was life.
She checked her gear, and then climbed down. The foliage pressed in on every side and was wild and tangled. It was hard not to feel she’d wandered into a fairy tale. Just hoped it wasn’t one of the ones with a nasty ending.
With her P-90 at ready, she moved slowly forward, trying not to let her imagination run wild. The silence was…complete. Not even bug sounds. Did this island have those things Fyn didn’t like? The ones that came out at night?
She reached the door…and it slid open for her. The inside looked dim and cool. She stepped forward, stopping just shy of entering and lights came
“Where you going, bravo5?” Carey asked.
“I’m having a problem with my auto pilot.” Sara tried to regain control of her craft. She could sense the program that had taken control, but couldn’t seem to disable it. That was a first. As her mind did battle with the computer program, she pulled up the heading. It was taking her back to Kikk—to the middle of the sea where she’d seen the island.
“Are you declaring an emergency?”
“Affirmative. I seem to be heading back to Kilo Papa.”
She heard Carey call the Doolittle. “Bravo2 you’re with me. We’re going to follow her in, sir. The rest of squadron, return to the ship.”
“Negative,” Halliwell’s voice cut in. “Our friends might be monitoring activity. If they think they splashed three craft, they might come back. We’ll send help as soon as we know they’ve withdrawn.”
The Old Man had a point. “I’ll be fine, sir.”
Sara watched Carey and Fyn break and turn back to the ship. She entered the atmosphere at a better speed this time. No bat turns or quick prayers. She waited, half knowing what she’d see and when.
Her ship slowed more and then she saw it. A city on an island. This time it didn’t disappear. The horizon quivered for a moment, then sharpened. It felt like she passed through something.
FM—freaking magic.
“Bravo5?” Carey’s voice was sharp. “We’ve lost you on radar.”
“I’m still here, sir.” Sara looked at her tracking. She could still see the Doolittle. “I can see you on my screen. Are you reading me?”
“Roger that.” Carey sounded relieved. “Report when you’re stable one.”
“Affirmative.”
Sara pulled up her life signs tracking, but got an empty screen.
Sara was just a passenger as her Dauntless made a slow, sweeping approach, then settled, like a broody hen, in an open space between tall buildings. Her top retracted with a hiss. She had a feeling she’d have been ejected if the program could have managed it.
“This is bravo5 reporting stable one.”
“Roger that. Stay put for now. We don’t want you suddenly reappearing if the Dusan are watching.”
“Affirmative.” Sara pulled off her oxygen mask and helmet, unhooked her harness, and then stood up and looked around. That icy chill made a come back, running down her spine and then spreading out like tentacles.
This was the city from her dreams. Ahead was the broad avenue she’d walked down in her sleep last night.
The buildings appeared to be made of stone, with square towers and battlements that reminded her of castles in England and Europe. It looked like broad pathways had wound between the buildings and green spots but everything was overgrown, giving it a Sleeping Beauty aura, only once again with the Tim Burton twist. If there were a sleeping princess and searching prince, they were probably gargoyles or ghosts.
She should stay with her ship, but the pressure to explore was almost physical in its intensity.
Okay, so she was probably going to take a short walk. The Colonel had said, stay put, not stay in your ship. Put could be over there, say by that door that looked particularly inviting. And she’d still be in radio contact.
She shrugged out of her zoombag and pulled out her P-90. Just because she got no life signs readings didn’t mean there wasn’t something here her ship didn’t know was life.
She checked her gear, and then climbed down. The foliage pressed in on every side and was wild and tangled. It was hard not to feel she’d wandered into a fairy tale. Just hoped it wasn’t one of the ones with a nasty ending.
With her P-90 at ready, she moved slowly forward, trying not to let her imagination run wild. The silence was…complete. Not even bug sounds. Did this island have those things Fyn didn’t like? The ones that came out at night?
She reached the door…and it slid open for her. The inside looked dim and cool. She stepped forward, stopping just shy of entering and lights came
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