- Prologue

'You want some of my extra storage?' she asked Asu. The other girl smiled.

'It would be a boon.'

'No, it wouldn't,' Theo corrected her, and reached out to tap two of the three empty cubbies. 'Trade for them.'

Asu raised her head and stared at the mess all around, before looking seriously into Theo's face.

'I cannot promise or incur a debt in the name of Diamon Lines,' she said finally, hands giving emphasis to the point.

'Diamon Lines isn't sleeping in the bunk below mine,' Theo said. 'I want an IOU, redeemable at a future time for one favor. Deal?'

Once again, Asu glanced about her. She sighed, and held a hand out to Theo.

'Done,' she said, barely touching Theo's fingers before reaching past her to open the first empty cubby.

Four

Academy Flight GT S14

Anlingdin Piloting Academy

Slipper Fourteen felt like home today; no longer an alien environment to be overcome but a friendly, trusted place, a place without the constant sniping between Asu and Chelly, a place where her motions were simple and sufficient, a place where the instructor looked over her shoulder only by instrument, his voice brought to her by the ear bud, and that not often; she'd wondered these last five flights if he'd monitored her at all.

The craft's cockpit was tiny, hardly more than a stiffly padded lay-back seat and some hand controls and pedals yoked electrically to the airfoils, with a tight-sealed canopy a hand's-width in front of her face that let the wind slip past. Boarding it was like slipping into her proper skin, especially with the belt-web forming itself to her so carefully after she touched the locking stud.

The tow drone's pace was sufficient for her to test her skill at boxing the wake without being bored: she moved to the right with the tow rope taut, then down below the wake, then left to the other side of the box, up, and centered again, the whole while using her slip-string to help guide her by sight as the other instruments.

Otto El, the glider instructor, insisted that each trainee bring and mount their own slip-string; just as he insisted that each trainee personally inspect the craft before each takeoff and after every landing.

'It is good to see what you have done,' he'd told the small assembled class of five on their first meeting, 'and it is good to see that your vessel is able before you trust your life and the lives of others to it!'

The slender wings were well behind Theo's position as the Slipper rose; today's preflight inspection had shown the outer left wing stained and scraped—grass stains. She'd immediately entered that into her logbook, lifted the wing to inspect it, attempted to flex it and probed at it with her hand and stylus. Pilot El had nodded as she made her verbal report and inquired about it.

'Yes, good. There was an awkward moment for someone in a crosswind landing yesterday; we've imaged it and everything is fine. You'll find it noted in the ship's log.'

By the third class they'd lost two of their class members, one apparently to basic homesickness and the other to something Asu darkly called a 'hyper-dense Code Ten Fifty-Six'—but there, Asu had been in three much larger classes with the boy. The Ten Fifties were the mental fitness codes if Theo recalled correctly, and the result was that Pilot El was pleased to go on an accelerated one-on-one with the remaining three students.

'We can all move to the power segments much faster now,' he said, 'and you three, very soon, will be able to walk with wings on your shoulders.'

The wings he promised were more than metaphysical: while some of the astronautics group went without the atmospheric license, deeming it a useless artifact, there was, after all, still a living to be made in flying atmospheric and near-world craft.

The drone's beeped report echoed what Theo'd already felt: they were comfortably topped out and had a good steady flight, and maybe a chance to ride the front wave down Kirky's Range.

'Academy Flight GT S14,' came a trainee's bored voice, 'you're set for release in fifteen ticks at my mark. We've got your transponders in good order, you've got great Qs, and the designated landing zone is South, runway seven. Mark!'

Great Qs meant the clouds favored a long flight; she was all for it since the longer she stayed up the longer she could avoid going back to Erkes. Asu busy was better than Asu with nothing to do, but still she found time to complain about how little room she had, about being stuck in with the Erkes kids whenever she used the jitney, and with a litany of Anlingdin security weaknesses . . .

'Mark, thank you, GT S14 acknowledges.'

Theo watched the slip-string as she raised the nose a bit, allowing the tow rope just a bit of slack and then just a bit more. She touched the rudder to dip wing, pushed the stick slightly forward, and the rope went from lifeline to fluttering ribbon, bearing to the right, and away. The slip-string snapped, like it was waving good-bye, and Theo sighed with the joy of finally being free to fly.

Slipper Fourteen gained speed for a moment until Theo leveled it out and then saw the variometer happily indicating she'd hit the thermal. Her key in the flight system jauntily blinked blue once a second, indicating her flight time was logged and mounting properly, and everything else looked good.

Everything. From here, Anlingdin was beautiful, and even the grounds of the academy, spreading out toward the horizon, were worth seeing. Out the other side of the ship the mountain range stood stark and compelling, the blue-grey peaks casting sharp-edged shadows.

She laughed out loud, and suppressed the urge to shout, suddenly mindful of Asu's warnings.

'Remember, Theo, every mic is live at all times. We're all right here, in our suite, because the Checksec will warn us if we're monitored. But out there? Galosh, they can hear everything you say about everyone, and then hold everything against your record.'

Theo'd wondered who'd twisted Asu's hair that time . . . but after all, Melchiza did it, and Delgado did it;