Academy 7 (14 page)

“Or if she threatens you,” he said firmly.

There was a pause, and Dane held out his jacket.

She hesitated, then slipped her arms into the lined sleeves.

He folded his own arms around her, pulling the jacket’s sides across her chest.

And she jerked away. Like an injured animal out of her depth but prepared to fight. “Listen, Dane, I can’t afford to be the subject of an investigation. I don’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t even know where to hole up for a couple weeks at Christmas. I’m not about to risk my place here just to punish Yvonne Entera.” The expression on her face was as determined as Dane had ever seen.

He was about to argue, but the words that came from his mouth were utterly unplanned. “You can come with me . . . for Christmas.”

She stared at him.

His eyes dropped, and he kicked at a vine that was trying to invade the pavement.

“Y-you’re inviting me to your home?” Her voice held a tremor in it.

Dane tried to push away the images of Chivalry in the winter: the snow, the deep green forests, the frozen waterfalls. They were irrelevant, he told himself. He had to be crazy to think of taking her there. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” he stumbled over his offer. Was he insane? He should back out of this right now.

“Your family?” she asked. “Will they be there?”

“My brother might,” he acknowledged reluctantly, both to her and to himself. He kicked again at the vine. “My father is still negotiating with the Trade Union.”
Thankfully.

She flushed, then said, “I would very much like to come.”

The attack on the vine ceased. “You would?”

Her laughter bubbled up, the sound bouncing off the white pavement. Startling him. He hadn’t heard her laugh before. It was like the fountain, rising up unabashed from the mysterious tangle to a shimmering display.

“Is that such a surprise?” she asked. “Did you think I might prefer hiding out in an alley somewhere?”

He had not thought. Thought had been exempt from the entire proposal. There were about fifty reasons why he should not take her back to Chivalry with him. But in the face of that laugh, well, none of them mattered.

Chapter Thirteen

THE END OF TERM SWEPT DOWN ON DANE LIKE A great horned owl snatching him before he had a chance to escape. Not that he had not thought about it. He had considered and reconsidered his plans to take Aerin to Chivalry, but backing out now would mean letting her down, and he could not do that.

She had changed. It was as if his invitation had unlocked something inside her. The cautious person he was used to finding in the nearest shadow had burst into color. She was laughing and talking and arguing with him in full view of everyone else. He had never seen her look this relaxed. Her cheeks were flushed, and her brown eyes glowed. She waved to him across hallways, walked with him on the way to meals, and waited for him after class. She even smiled when he defeated her for the first time in physical combat, smack in the middle of the term exam.

Dane wondered if she had ever looked forward to anything as much as this trip to Chivalry. He wished
he
could look forward to it.

Dread pulsed just beneath his skin.

Not until he and Aerin had passed their exams, checked out of the dorm rooms, and walked onto the airfield did he feel the first glimmer of anticipation. Pride washed over him at the sight of
Gold Dust
. He ran his hand over the slender spacecraft, then opened the door to show Aerin the black leather seats, multisystem control panel, and six-foot sleeping compartment. “She’s an I-36,” he said, and broke into a grin. “Handles like lightning.”

He could hear his voice begin to yammer: the flexibility of the wing function, the power of the thrusters, the light carriage.
Shut up,
he tried to tell himself.
She doesn’t care.

But her jaw had dropped, as had her single bag of luggage.

He stored the luggage away and offered her a hand up, then leaped into the pilot’s seat, anxious to touch the controls. His palms slid over the steering device, and he breathed in the scent of the cockpit.
Imminent fl ight.
He had not realized how much he had missed it.

One more breath, then he strapped himself in, made a quick check to ensure she was secure, and hit the controls. A dozen panels lit up, and a gentle hum thrummed in the engine. He switched on the radio. “Madousin requesting clearance for takeoff.”

“Clearance granted.”

His hand clutched the throttle, and
swish! Gold Dust
shot into a near vertical climb. The ship throbbed in the turbulence, then ripped through the atmosphere. A shrill whistle exited Dane’s teeth.

And he was once again in open space. How he had missed this.

Aerin said nothing for several minutes. Perhaps she was even more moved than he was. He had not thought about what it must have been like for her, all these months on planet after growing up in the freedom of space.

“How long have you been flying?” she finally asked.

“Since I was twelve.” He tossed off the fact, certain she would not care that he had first worked the steering when he was four.

“And who taught you to fly?”

“Pete. He’s a mechanic back on base. I’ve known him forever.”

“But didn’t your father break all kinds of flight records?” Her voice trailed off.

Why didn’t
he
teach you?
That was her real question. Dane felt his jaw clench, and instinctively he gave the engine more power. The warning signal started to buzz.
Stupid autopilot.
He switched it off, using the disruption as an excuse not to answer her question. The ship launched into a higher speed, shook for a couple of moments, then smoothed out.

Tension hung in the cockpit. “I can see your instructor failed to impress you with the importance of speed limits.” Aerin’s voice trembled.

“Oh, well, Pete isn’t very impressive.” Dane glanced at her, noted the dearth of color in her face, and slowly dialed back the power. “Tell me what you know about Chivalry,” he said, trying to distract her from his error in judgment.

She gave a weak groan. “I thought I was done spitting out facts after term exams.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t done your research,” he teased.

She flipped down the star visor, a hint of color returning to her face. “It’s a green planet. The vegetation is all natural, unlike most of Academia.”

“So what do Academia and Chivalry have in common?”

“They’re both circle-of-life planets.”

“Which means?”

“The air is breathable.” Her normal skin tone had returned. “You know, Dane, I think you’re taking this study partner thing too seriously.”

He pushed the visor back up. “And why are the circle-of-life planets important?”

“They’re ten central planets with natural conditions to support life. The Alliance was built around them.”

“Not bad.” He clicked his tongue on his front teeth. “And Chivalry’s main role in the Alliance is . . . ?”

“It’s the central base for the military.” She reached for the visor again, then turned on him when his hand stopped her. “Enough, Dane. I know what the books say. Tell me what your home is really like.”

“It’s a military base, Aerin”—he spat the words—“not a home.”

She bit her lip.

And he wished he had not snapped. He should not allow his own mood to spoil her expectations. There was no reason she could not enjoy her holiday. Or the entire trip, for that matter. If he shared with her, well, if he shared with her what there was on Chivalry to love.

“Know what,” he said, his voice softening as a familiar green sphere appeared in the view screen. “I won’t tell you about Chivalry; I’ll show her to you.”

 

Beautiful,
Aerin thought as the green sphere grew larger and larger, closer and closer.

She had read that the military base with its surrounding city took up only a fraction of the planet’s surface, the rest being preserved as a wilderness area, but coming from an overcrowded planet like Vizhan, it had been hard for her to believe such a thing.

The reality hit her, though, as
Gold Dust
ripped through the atmosphere, and the spaceship swept into an arc over a vast tangle of leaves, needles, and branches. Shades of green, both deep and light, flickered below, broken here and there by barren branches and the sparkle of silver. The spaceship slowed, and she could see that the silver was a natural shade of tree bark, glowing against the darker browns and reds that filled the inner hue of the forest.

“Almost worth it,” she heard Dane whisper under his breath. Then he raised his voice. “Well, what do you think? Better than a textbook?”

She grappled for an answer and settled for the truth. “Beyond words.”

Gold Dust
skimmed low above the treetops, curving south while Aerin gazed out the window. A deep blue lake shimmered beneath her, the waters stretching in a perfect crescent. Even the forest began to sparkle as they flew over a section where white crystals coated the branches.

Frost,
she realized. They had frost here . . . and snow—snow and mountains and forests and lakes. How could Dane have left it? How could he stand to? To exchange this beauty for the stifling Wall of Academy 7. Even space itself lost power in the face of this scenery. The ship was climbing now, scaling the surface of a stunning white slope.

“You ready for this?” Dane asked, fiddling with the controls.

“For what?” Goose bumps spiked her flesh.

“This is Chivalry Ridge. The falls are on the other side.”

“Hold on.”

They were still climbing.

And then they weren’t. The land dropped out beneath them, and the plane dropped with it over a thousand feet. Dane flipped
Gold Dust
, and they were sailing down at a steep angle, the jagged cliff flying past. Aerin dug her hands into her armrests and opened her mouth in a silent scream.
I’m going to die!

But then she saw the first waterfall, a thin frozen stream of icy blue threading its way down the cliff side, then another one, and another as the plane eased into a curve—a hundred frozen waterfalls sparkling, tracing, and spreading their way across the vertical surface. The sheer beauty broke through her panic. She loosened the mortal grip of her hands.

Dane glanced her way, cracking another smile. “I said to hold on.”

And the plane dropped again, this time a sheer fall of about a hundred feet, then plunged forward under the most spectacular vision she had ever seen, the cliff on one side, a frozen arch of ice on the other, a crystal tunnel. Ten feet, twenty. Fifty. Patches of light and dark sprinted over the ship, and she went from blindness to sight a million times in the seconds it took to reach the other side.

Then
Gold Dust
soared away from the cliff’s edge before gently curling around and gliding along the frozen falls she had just flown beneath. The exterior glowed, a massive, natural sculpture. Her breath rose and fell with the sparkling light, and she could not speak. What was there to say?

The ship wove its way back and forth, gliding down to a frozen stream deep at the base of the cliff. Then after easing
Gold Dust
onto a small circular landing pad, Dane turned off the power. For minutes, maybe hours, they sat there, Aerin’s eyes holding tight to the view.

Her heart thundered in her chest. Could anyone witness such a sight and not have it change them? And what did it tell her about the young man at her side, that he could come from such a place and had chosen to share it with her?

A gush of cold air woke her to the fact that Dane had climbed out of the ship. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for her to exit the plane and follow him toward a small, octagonal building at the edge of the landing pad.

She opened her own door and set a tentative foot down onto the layer of snow. To her surprise, the whiteness broke away beneath her boot like nothing. Cold sliced through her leather jacket as though it were made of cotton. She brought down her other foot and hurried after Dane, less concerned about where he was taking her than escaping the chill.

CHIVALRY VISITOR CENTER read the black lettering on the building’s glass doorway, and warm air embraced her as she stepped inside. A man in a starched collar came forward as if to greet them, but Dane waved him away, steering her instead toward a drink stand. “Hot chocolate,” he told the young man behind the counter, “one plain. One . . .” he glanced at Aerin.

“With caramel,” she answered.

The server winked at her and hurried to comply. “Sweet tooth?” he teased.

She blushed but eagerly accepted the warm mug into her hands. The chocolate slid down her throat in rich ecstasy, and for a moment she was a child again, tasting her father’s love.

Dane waited only long enough for her to take that single sip before guiding her through a gap between a pair of painted screens.

She stepped through the space. And froze.

For the eight walls and ceiling of the building were nowhere to be seen. Instead the endless cliff of Chivalry Ridge rose up before them, not as it had moments before, but as it might have done in the springtime. Streams poured in crystal trails down the rock surface; thick moss clung in patches beneath emerald leaves; and the sound of rushing water filled the space, interspersed by the powerful call of a soaring hawk.

The hawk glided down, its wingtips almost grazing Aerin’s hair. She reached up a hand toward it, and the bird circled.

Then swept right through her fingers.

She withdrew, flashing her hand front to back for inspection.

Dane laughed. “It’s a simulation, created by computer.” He stepped forward, dipped his hand into the water at the cliff’s base, and returned with a dry palm. “It has sound and three-dimensional form, but no—”