She seemed to have managed as Peredur turned to the pilots.
“This is Captain Elyan Gould and his co-pilot, Mourant Hyde,” the director said, indicating each man in turn. They were bothhochlen, which was no surprise. The captain was what Hallie often thought of as the typicalhochlenmale - tall, pale-skinned and dark-haired. He had the faintest trace of lines around his eyes, which oddly comforted Hallie, as his co-pilot was a sharp contrast, being half a head shorter, with cool, mid-brown skin, tousled dark hair and a gleam in his dark eyes suggesting he was up for adventure. Hallie estimated that the co-pilot was several years younger than she was, and decided she was very glad neither he nor Frollo would be flying on their own.
“We need to get going,” the captain said, speaking to Director Roth. “I just had an update that the storm has grown as it changed direction. We need to keep ahead of it.”
“Understood. We’ve radioed ahead to let the community know you’re on the way,” the director said, speaking to the group in general. “We haven’t had any reply. We’ll keep trying and if we get any response, we’ll relay that.”
Hallie’s brows rose.
“There’s been no contact from the community as a whole? For how long?” she asked. Last she had heard there were at leasttwo settlements on Paradise, the main one having a few hundred people. It was difficult to get news from the rest of the world in low city, so she knew that her information might be out of date. And while there might not be a mobile phone network on the island, they clearly had a radio and there should be someone to answer a radio call.
“We last had active contact with them four days ago,” the director said, and from the pinched expression on his face she guessed that he hadn’t been happy about that. Based on what she knew of him, she suspected he’d wanted to send people to investigate much sooner than today. From what he’d said, and not said, she guessed that the Conclave had spent the intervening time debating an appropriate response. And now the Conclave had decided they wanted answers, so there was a rush to get them. She found herself very glad she didn’t have his job.
“So, the last contact with Waller Howther as the Conclave liaison was ten days ago, and the last contact with the island as a whole was four days ago?” Hallie asked, wanting to be sure she had understood the time line. The director confirmed she was correct. “Any explanation as to why Master Howther wasn’t answering the call?”
“Variations on the same theme,” Peredur said, voice dry. “Our operator was told he was busy, or unavailable. Once might be believable, but not for six days.”
“Any sign of hostile activity?” Frollo asked. He might be a terrible driver, but he was no idiot.
“We don’t have any visuals,” the director said, “and, like I said, as far as we know the community has hand weapons only.”
“We’re aiming to land you within easy walking distance from the second settlement, which is inland and much smaller. The intel is that the radio is in the smaller settlement,” the captain said to Hallie and Girard. He turned to the director, “We’ll try and get some up to date images for you and bring those back.”
“That’s appreciated, thank you,” Peredur said in a clipped voice. He glanced up at the sky, as if searching for the storm. “Keep in touch, please. Safe journey.” Peredur shook hands with the pilot, nodded to Girard, then moved away, heading towards the building.
“These all the bags you’re bringing?” the co-pilot asked, pointing to the luggage Girard and Hallie were carrying.
“Yes,” Girard answered.
“Packing light, I see. Let’s get you settled,” the co-pilot said. He put his helmet down through the open door of the front of the helicopter, then moved to the sliding door and stepped inside, holding out his hand for Hallie’s bag. She handed it over and watched as he stored it in what looked like orange plastic webbing behind the seats, then did the same with Girard’s bag. He then gestured for them to get inside.
It was a bigger step up than Hallie had anticipated, but she managed to get into the body of the helicopter without too much difficulty, sitting in one of the middle seats where the co-pilot directed her. As Girard, Frollo and Duncan followed her, the whine of the engines spiked sharply until she couldn’t hear anything but mechanical noise. The co-pilot gestured to the side of her seat and, with a bit of fumbling, she managed to get the harness straps over her shoulders and fastened at her waist. Girard, Frollo and Duncan were already strapped into their seats when she looked across. She noted that Frollo and Duncan were on opposite sides of the craft, closer to the windows, and had stowed their rifles on what looked like purpose-made racks on the inside of the helicopter body, in easy reach of each man, despite the harnesses. The others were taking what looked like crash helmets from the co-pilot. Hallie accepted the helmet offered to her and breathed a sigh of relief when she’d put it on and it dulled the roar of noise around her.
“There are microphones built into the helmets.” Girard’s voice in her ear startled her into jumping. “We’re on a common channel, so everyone can hear what we say,” he added.
“Thank you,” Hallie said, not able to think of another neutral way of responding. She appreciated the warning, though. As she and Girard had grown closer, they’d had long, rambling conversations on all manner of subjects and somehow she wasn’t sure the rest of the people on board would appreciate the discussions as much as she did.
Settling back into the seat, she wondered what Girard had meant by the journey being uncomfortable. The seat was heavily padded, the restraints keeping her in place weren’t all that tight and the helmet had cut out most of the noise. There was a low vibration running through the floor under her feet as well as the seat, but it was little more than a minor distraction. So far, she was perfectly comfortable. Her stomach tightened and her pulse quickened, a broad grin taking over her face. It was real. She was on an actual helicopter, about to leave her home country and go somewhere she’d never been before.
Then the vibration increased and her stomach lurched. No, not her stomach. The floor tilted. She found herself holding tightly on to the arms of the chair even as she turned her head slightly to look out the window. The ground was disappearing. She could no longer see the concrete, just trees, and then the first glimpses of sky along with taller buildings nearby. The view outside the window tilted in a way that made her screw her eyes shut, nausea rising. There was no up or down or ground.
“Are you alright?” Girard asked.
“I think so,” Hallie said, her voice high and thin. “That was faster than I was expecting.”
“We want to make sure we stay ahead of the storm front, so we’re moving fast,” Captain Gould’s voice came clearly throughthe speakers in Hallie’s helmet. “I apologise in advance for any rough patches in the journey.”
“There are sick bags in the pockets under your seats,” the co-pilot added, his voice far too cheerful in Hallie’s view.
“Try this,” Girard said. He was holding out what looked like a thick rubber band. “Put it round your wrist, with the metal on the pulse point. It should help with any nausea.” He twitched his own sleeve back, showing one on his own wrist.
“Thank you,” Hallie said. She wasn’t sure if it was the band or Girard’s kindness, but her stomach settled after a few minutes. She glanced over to find Girard still watching her, a slight frown on his face. She gave a quick nod and some of his concern faded.
With her stomach and its contents back in place, she looked out the window and promptly forgot all about her near brush with illness, instead seeing a view of endless sky and ocean. She had stood on the old harbour wall a number of times, looking out at the vast, flat expanse of water and the sky overhead, sometimes catching sight of one or more of the enormous container vessels that came in and out of the city port, but she’d never seen it from this vantage point and found herself mesmerised by the ripple of the waves. Then she spotted a sleek shape under water and tried to lean forward for a better look.
“What is it?” Girard asked.
“Something under the water,” Hallie said, and felt heat creep up her neck.
