One-six

 

Their engines roared above the howling wind as they sped towards the invisible line separating east and west.

“We’ll have to wait until dusk before we try to infiltrate, even with these clothes we’ll look suspicious,” Two-six told them from the back-right seat.

“Are you sure these will fit us?” One-five asked, stretching out a random jumper they grabbed from the laundry room.

“Yes. Just make do if you must,” Two-five told him as she tapped a few buttons on her tablet. “Bug is going live in three, two, one.”

A beep sounded, and an error message warning about a positioning system error immediately popped up on their displays.

“We are off the map now,” Two-five added, observing her display as they filled with error messages.

“Inputting coordinates for our landing zone. ETA one hour and forty-three minutes at cruising speed,” said Two-six.

“Copy, descending below radar coverage,” One-six replied, rolling their fighter into a gentle dive toward the ground.

As they dipped below the rolling hills their radar warning receiver went clean with a ding. They were now by themselves, invisible to everyone else. For all anyone else might know, they have ceased to exist.

The arrival and subsequent landing just a few kilometers away from the little settlement, deep within the winding mountains, straddling the border between New Asia and Europa, went as smoothly as they could hope. They put on their stolen clothing, slightly weirded out by the unfamiliar fabric, and then waited for the sun to set.

“Let’s pick out some names for ourselves,” said Two-six, holding up a thick magazine in her hands. “I don’t think code numbers will work well where we are going. I picked out one for myself already. I’m now Charlie.”

She passed the book to One-five, who quickly flipped through the colorful pages.

“I think Tyler will be fine,” he said after a while.

“I like Kate,” uttered Two-five, who sat beside One-five, reading the magazine with him.

One-six reached out for the magazine, but Two-six blocked his hand away playfully. “I picked one out for you already.”

“Huh?”

“Erwin. I like Erwin.”

 

Dusk came fast, and soon they were pushing through the undergrowth, relying on an old-style magnetic compass to find their way. Without GPS, this is their only form of navigation.

“I see lights,” Two-five reported after a half-hour of trekking.

Ahead of them, sparkles of light peeked between the trees like flakes of gold. It was Valkyria.

As they got closer, they could hear the noise of the bustling streets. Despite its relatively small size, Valkyria is the trading center for all goods that flow between the East and the West. Though the two supercities have refused to communicate, most smaller settlements throughout the continent rely on trade for food and other essential supplies.

They came upon the edge of the tree line, beyond which lay the edges of the busy town. The little alleyways were empty, people rarely venturing this far to the outskirts of town.

“Do we just... go in?” Two-six whispered.

“Yes. Blend in and find our way to the hangars,” One-six whispered back.

“I think they call it an ‘airport’ here," Two-five interjected.

“Yes, that,” One-six said as he got to his feet. “Let’s go.”

At first, they were worried they would seem out of place but soon realized that the crowd swallowed them whole, and no one paid more attention to them than anyone else. This is the first time they’ve seen a town that hasn’t been razed to the ground, and the sights made them gasp.

The crudely built wooden houses were wonky and primitive, but they still seemed so alive and welcoming. Handmade paper lanterns hung from the corners of the overhanging roofs, casting a warm orange glow onto the streets below.

At every corner were food carts and candy stands, each with a long queue of people, all waiting to buy a tasty snack. Singing voices and music from a theater house a little distance down a neighboring street echoed faintly over their heads.

Overpasses and skywalks spanning the upper floors of buildings crisscrossed above, people leaning over the rails with drinks in their hands, laughing and waving at the moving crowd below.

They watched as a group of children darted past them, sparklers held high above their heads, the dandelion-like flames spitting and popping in the cold night breeze, sending down a shower of sparks in their wake. Wooden sandals clacked against the cobbled street, beating up a disorganized yet energetic drumbeat. It's much warmer here than back home, though still somewhat cold in the middle of winter.

“There must be a festival or something happening, right?” Two-six mumbled to herself as her eyes wandered all over the place. “This place is amazing…”

“Don’t get distracted,” One-six reminded her, tugging on her hood to stop her eyes from staring up at the buildings around them. “We need to find the airport.”

“It’s up ahead,” Two-six answered without skipping a beat.

“How do you know?”

“Signs.”

One-six followed Two-six finger until his eyes fell upon several wooden signs mounted on tall poles. One read “Airport” and pointed directly down the street.

“I wonder what an opera house or spa is,” mumbled Two-six. “Can we…”

“No.”

“Okay…”

It took them a while to find the airport, which was surprisingly hidden. The terminal is just a slightly larger wooden structure sitting by the side of the road, carts stacked high with boxes constantly rolling in and out of the wide entrance.

They joined the small crowd pushing through the terminal and were soon inside the musty-smelling, dimly-lit, somewhat primitive building.

Looking around, they soon realized that sneaking aboard a flight to New Asia might be a little challenging with such a crowd. But, more pressingly, they had no clue which way any flight was headed.

“What do we do?” One-six whispered to his teammates.

“I have an idea,” Two-six whispered back, starting towards the information desk at the center of the terminal.

“Two-six, what are you…” he began.

“Blending in.”

They watched as Two-six walked up to the desk and seemed to have a happy little conversation with the worker.

One-five leaned slightly closer to One-six. “I think we need to check her neural pathways,” he whispered.

“She does have a history of getting disciplinary actions,” Two-five added. “I think One-five is right.”

Two-six came trotting back and proudly announced that there was, in fact, a flight headed for New Asia, which would be departing in a short while.

“Where is it?” One-six asked.

“Parking space number three.”

A little unassuming cargo plane sat on the concrete landing pad, its rear loading ramp lowered, the workers piling on the final bits of cargo. Its maybe slightly larger than their F-51, but with less bulbous engines and much smaller control surfaces.

“Do you have any space in the back for a few travelers?” Asked Two-six as she walked up to the open cockpit window.

The pilot observed them for a while. “Where you from?” He asked.

“We…”

“Travelers!” Two-six shouted above the noise. “We’ve spent our entire lives moving about places.”

The pilot nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “I’ve heard some stories about guys like you, always thought it was a legend, though. I won’t make you pay, you probably have no money anyway. Just keep my guys entertained with some stories, these flights get boring sometimes,” he pointed at the workers loading cargo. “Go say hi to my crew, they don’t bite. Oh, and, no funny business, we’re armed.”

They greeted the crew, who greeted them in return. They were surprisingly friendly, more so than they first appeared to be.

"Where you born?" One of them asked.

"Don't know," Two-six replied.

"Why you guys headed to New Asia?" Another asked.

"To see the city," Two-six replied.

"It's a fine city. Finer than anything ever built."

Soon, they were loaded up and ready to fly, sitting among pallets of tied-down goods. One-six looked out of the little circular windows as the ground slowly dipped away, and couldn’t help but breathe a little sigh of relief.

“That was easier than I thought…” he whispered to himself.

“I know, right?” Two-six whispered back, letting her head fall onto One-six’s shoulder. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Do you have to use my shoulder as a pillow?” One-six asked, but Two-six was already snoring away.

Or, at least, putting on her best act of being asleep.

 

*****

 

"Trespassing of perimeters…” He mumbled to himself.

The write-up lay on his mahogany desk, still warm from the printer.

What an interesting bunch. He thought to himself.

Maybe they're the ones I've been looking for.

Wiping the security cameras and position tracking history was no challenge. Though he might need to spend a little on some drinks.

"Captain Steiner," his assistant's muffled voice came through the heavy door. "They're here."

"Okay," he answered. "One moment, please."

The Council was here to discuss some important matters—a topic he’d been dreading for a long time.

He got up from his chair, scrunched up the write-up, before tossing it in the bin.

Then he walked to the door, turned the nob, and greeted the stone-faced politicians waiting outside.