"How about that singed wing of yours?" Brim asked.
Aram shrugged. "It's flyable," he said, unsealing the wing covers of his battlesuit. "I practice every time I get on the surface where there's a bit of room." He looked up momentarily as lightning flickered in the sky, then began to unlimber his great wings like an athlete readying himself for competition.
"Takes care of that," Brim laughed. "But after we find the village—then what?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Onrad admitted. "But where there's a village, there are bound to be Effer'wyckeans. And I can't believe they have any love for the Leaguers who are sacking their country."
"Got a point there," Beyazh agreed thoughtfully. '"There's got to be more help there than out in the middle of the woods."
"What do you think, Aram?" Onrad asked, his face lighted momentarily by lightning.
"I'm ready to go anywhere," the A'zurnian said while a freshening breeze noisily rustled the high treetops, "just so long as we get going."
"Wilf?"
"Sounds good to me," Brim said. "I certainly can't think of a better plan, although I think that storm's definitely headed our way. Do you fly in the rain, Aram?"
"Haven't melted yet," the A'zurnian quipped, "It's settled, then," Onrad said. "Now, what about weapons? We got anything but our side arms?''
"Yeah," Aram quipped, "as we say in A'zurn, 'You can get more with a kind word and a blaster than you can get from a kind word alone.'"
"True," Beyazh chuckled. "Well," he said, pointing to a long, badly dented metal box. "I dragged this out of the wreck while you were working on Brim. It says it's a survival kit, but I'm xaxtdamned if I can get it open."
"Probably jammed," Onrad offered after having a go at the lid himself.
"I'll take care of that," Brim said, making his way cautiously into the wreckage. A few clicks later, he returned with a stout metal rod about three irals in length. "Found me a 'Carescrian persuader.' " he chuckled darkly, and made for the box. Moments after a rending screech of metal against metal, the box lay open. "Always was good at precision tools," he said proudly.
"So I see," Onrad laughed. "Or rather don't see."
"It is sort of dark here," Beyazh agreed.
"Not anymore," Brim said, feeling through the contents blindly. "I'll bet this is...."
"A flashlight," Onrad exclaimed as a dull glow illuminated the box's interior.
"And thoughtfully preset at minimum intensity," Brim said admiringly. "We really didn't need a bright flash of light right now, although that lightning must be messing up their orbiting light sensors in a big way." He quickly inventoried the contents: a week's rations (anatomy types 2, 9, 9A, 13-19), four rapid-firing BL-58 blast pikes with sixteen energy cartridges, a case of thirty-six proton grenades, eight rapid-cure battlesuit patches, a first-aid kit (831-B radiation, anatomy types 2, 9, 13-19), four backpacks with climbing gear, and a second flashlight. "Not bad for emergencies," he observed with a grin and passed out the blast pikes. Wiping the last clean of preservative gel, he slotted a power cartridge in place and ran a self-test sequence on the powerful weapon's tiny status panel. Moments later, a ready indicator glowed softly beside the safety switch.
"This pike's looking good," Onrad said over a loud roll of thunder.
"Mine, too," Aram said.
"Bad power cartridge here," Beyazh grumbled, heaving the finned cylinder into the wreck.
Brim tossed him another. That did the trick.
"Aram," Beyazh asked, "how much can you carry when you fly?"
"I'm pretty well out of shape," Aram admitted. "Probably I could carry a blast pike with this battlesuit on, but someone'll have to carry my backpack while I'm up."
"You won't be carrying anything on these missions, my feathery friend," Brim said. "The proximity sensors those Leaguers will be using scan for synthetic materials and metals. In a forest like this, they'll be specially set to ignore birds and the like. Even big ones."
"You've got a point, Wilf," Aram said. "I guess while I'm up, then, somebody will have to carry all my stuff."
"No problem, there," Onrad said.
"All right," the A'zurnian said, looking up through the trees, "Since we're in sort of a clearing here, I think I'll have my first look right now." Presently, he was out of his battlesuit, his reddish feathers black in the near darkness.
"You going to have any trouble finding us from up there?" Brim asked.
"I was thinking of that," Aram answered. "Probably the best way is for you to use the flashlight.
In the dark I've always been able to return pretty close to where I took off, but forests like this begin to look the same from about five hundred irals on down."
"That light'll also show any orbiting Leaguers where we are," Beyazh warned.
"I'm pretty sure our storm will take care of that," Brim said.
"Right," Aram agreed, "Besides, you won't flash it until you hear me calling. I'll simply fly a grid pattern in the general area until I hear one of you yelling or I see the flashlight blip. How's that?"
"Sounds good to me," Onrad said. "May Lady Fortune smile on you."
"By Voot's beard, may she thraggling crawl in bed with you!" Beyazh swore.
"I think I like that even better," Aram returned with a chuckle. Then slowly his great wings began to beat the air. Moments later, he rose majestically into his own natural element.
Brim felt shivers race along his back as the A'zurnian became a dark shape among the stars and then disappeared completely. Now that, he thought with a smile, was flying!
No more than a quarter metacycle later, they heard singing coming from above the trees.
"There once was a flyer from Zeight," the voice went. "Who traveled much faster than light. ...
He left one day in a relative way.... And came back the previous night...."
"Hey, Aram," Brim shouted into the night sky. "Over this way!"
"Which way?" asked the voice after a rumble of thunder.
"Over here.'"
"Say again!" This time, Aram's voice was closer.
"Over here!"
"Yeah," Aram said. "Blip the light—at glow. I think I'm right above you.'1
Brim set the flashlight at glow and blipped it once.
"That's enough," Aram warned, "I'm comin' in."
Immediately, Brim watched an area of sky become even darker, and moments later Aram was down.
"How'd it go?"
"Piece of cake," Aram said. "Aside from the wind—which is definitely getting worse as the storm approaches. But we have to get going right away. I spotted three search groups coming through the woods in our general direction. They must be starsailors, 'cause they're making enough noise for two battle groups of soldiers." He paused for a moment. "Listen," he said. "At least until dawn, I'm going to take my helmet up with me and stay there while you three walk. The helmet's so small it'll look like static on their proximity alarms, and we can stay in touch with the secure voice circuits. Besides that, I'll be able to track you without the flashlight and I can keep you on the most direct route possible."
"We've got nearly ten metacycles before it gets light," Brim said, looking at his timepiece. "Can you stay up that long?"
"Depends on the storm," Aram said, looking up as lightning flashed through the trees. "If I get tired, I'll let you know. Anybody have problems with that?"
"None here," Brim said after a moment. "It's clearly our best chance."
"All right," Onrad said, "let's split up the rest of this gear and get moving."
Within half a metacycle, they were on their way, Brim and his two nonflighted cohorts marching and stumbling single file through the forest at the direction of a large "bird" flying over head. Bringing up the rear, Brim found himself chuckling in spite of the desperate circumstances. Here we go again, he thought to himself. Funny how things went in a war. It hadn't been that long ago he'd been afraid he might be bored with his job as Group Leader....