Hospitality

In the end, Kailey used the antigravity pods rather than redirecting the turbofans. As if the fightercraft streaking in over the city didn’t cause enough of an uproar, the same fightercraft drifting over the hospital’s landing pad like a leaf on the wind…. Well, in the privacy of their own homes, well after the terms of the NDAs the government would have the hospital staff signing, it would be a story for the grandchildren, that was certain.

Green Five looked like most fightercraft — two wings, two engines, two tail fins. Spots where the guns would probably be. It perched on three normal-looking tires attached to normal-looking landing gear.

But it also sported two extra bulges alongside the engine housings, nearly big enough to disrupt the airflow over the frame and make flight difficult. That was where the engineers had mounted the two bits of alien technology they’d salvaged at the beginning of the war: two functional gravity-arresters. Overheated as they were, they were venting vapors from whatever they used for fuel, and Kailey saw the lefthand pod housing was scored, and it was leaking inky black smoke.

The hospital staff “ooh-ed” and “ahh-ed” as the canopy lifted open. Someone had dragged one of the helicopter maintenance ladders over. It was the tallest thing they had, and even then Kailey had to drop a bit as she climbed out of the cockpit.

She staggered, gripping the railing, and two of the mechanics steadied her. One of them hastily moved his hands as he realized the pilot wasn’t a “sir.”

A doctor hustled over as the mechanics helped Kailey down the steps.

When her feet touched the rooftop, she finally had the presence of mind to get the flight helmet off. Lord knew how much she hated wearing that thing, anyway.

The “ooh-ing” and “ahh-ing” continued as she shook her dark curls out from under the stifling helmet. Dark brown with auburn highlights, spilling just past her shoulders, Kailey ran her hands through her mane, closing her eyes as she soaked in the feeling of real air against her scalp.

Guenevere, she thought to the tiny computers in her skull, lift WHISPER protocols. Satellite search, download and recompile preflight backups. Utilize local wifi and broadcast supports. Scrambled message to Command and the Wizard: Ruby slippers are secure but in need of resole. Dorothy is fine and will be back in Kansas soon. End.

** Acknowledged. Weathersat uplink enabled. Compiling. Message sent. Reply from Wizard. **

“Miss? Are you hurt? Do you require medical attention?” The doctor’s tone suggested he’d asked the question more than once.

“No, no, I’m fine. A bit shaken up. Rough flight.”

The doctor looked up at the smoking aircraft, then back down at the girl. “I thought pilots had to be taller,” he said. He narrowed his eyes. “And older.”

Kailey came up to the man’s shoulder. A close look indicated that the cuffs of her flight suit had had some serious modifications.

“Desperate times,” she said with a shrug. “And speaking of desperate,” she said. “Ladies room? I’ve been in that thing all morning.” She jerked her thumb behind her.

“Oh, yes, right this way.”

* * * * *

Kailey felt better once she’d had a chance to wash some of the grit from the cockpit off her face. One of the doctors had let her use her contact lense solution, and Kailey was able to clear off her optic screens. It felt fantastic, being able to blink without it feeling like she had boulders rolling around behind her eyelids.

“I’m blind as a bat without my lenses in,” said the doctor. “You too?”

“No,” Kailey said. “I see fine. These just help me see better.”

“Distance, then? You don’t look old enough to need help with that.”

“UV, infrared, polarization in extreme lighting conditions. And readout feeds from the computers in my head,” she said with a smile, pointing to the back of her head. Just for fun, she had Guenevere cycle the screens from green to red to black then back to clear.

The doctor went pale, picked up her cup of coffee, and fled the room.

You know, you’d make more friends if you didn’t do things like that, the Wizard’s voice crackled in her inner ear.

Kailey jumped.

“I hate when you do that!” she said, then swallowed her anger. She glanced around, glad that the hospital staff lounge was empty. Not that she’d care much what they thought of her talking to herself. They certainly couldn’t detain her for evaluation against her will, could they?

Reverse to feed: Where are you? she thought fiercely.

You never call, you never write. We worry. Commander has a convoy headed for the hospital. We’d have gone by air, but that little stunt of theirs with the lights and drones has him paranoid. Rightly so. Techs are scrambling to find out how they did it. I see your systems are shaken, but intact. Good.

How steamed is the Commander?

Scale of 1 to 10? 12. But you’re safe, Five is in one piece, so not a whole lot he can make a stink about. The lieutenant is on his way from the airfield, and some calls ahead have local agents working to quiet things down. Just keep a low profile.

I dropped out of the sky in a part-alien space-plane. I’m wearing Joint Projects fatigues under my Joint Projects flight suit. If they get a good look at my legs, or back, they’ll think I escaped from some psycho with a thing for knives. About the only thing I don’t have going for me is one of those fancy sidearms the boys get to carry.

Dr. Carter will be hurt to hear you say that about her. The scarring isn’t that bad. And you’re dangerous enough without being able to zap people. If you do need to get out of a scrape, I’ve left the back door to Sensei open, but only non-lethals are active.

I never get to have any fun.

Skywalker will be there in an hour or so. He’s picking up a change of clothes for you. We’ll be a day behind. Try not to get into too much trouble.

If he brings another dress, I’m hacking into the lethals.