Fly High

    59 -- Tomorrow

 

   Cadets, David and Romana among them, dotted the Corps Archives like mushrooms when a message runner dashed by the door. A little over half the First Year cadet class hunched up in their khakis over copies of weather almanacs of the last decade, looking like nothing so much as an Earth Farm nursery tray. He managed not to smile at the idea and tried to focus on the Northern Plains data.

   The runner’s head poked back into the doorway a moment later, followed by the rest of him when he recognised several faces.

    Several long months had gone by with only sporadic word from Waterfall City and David had begun to allow himself to imagine that he might be able to lose himself in Canyon City’s detached busyness. For no reason other than past history, he had a sinking notion that the runner might be looking for him.

   It wasn’t so.

   “First Year Cadets?" Of eight people in the Archives, five looked up. At the corner of David's eye, Romana was giving him a curious look as if she’d heard his sigh of relief.

   “Some of them,” replied a big, blonde cadet from the Forbidden Mountains, slow and steady as a glacier.

   “You’ve been issued new orders. Squadron Leader Oonu has been called away for a few days,” the runner recited. “He’s left instructions for all First Year Cadets to assemble on the Launching Ledge at dawn two days hence with all flight kit. You will receive your provisional Wingmate assignments and undergo an initial compatibility assessment. In the meantime, cadets are to attend all classes and PT sessions as usual.”

   The runner withdrew with an Overlander-like bob of his head, presumably to seek out the rest of the class. Each First Year sat in contemplative silence as they processed the news.

   Then one man let out a whoop and clapped the big blond on the back. “Yes! Wingmates, Max. We’re moving up in the world.”

   David grinned at Oskrim’s enthusiasm and turned back to his almanac. Their Northern Plains weather essay for the end of the week wouldn’t write itself. As he did so, Romana caught his eye. She only held it briefly before lowering her eyes to her scroll.

   David skimmed the symbols on his own without really taking them in. Their wingmates. The day after tomorrow, they would have their wingmates.

   One human partner to fly with until the end of the year—possibly until Graduation from Second Year, or forever. The person who would always have their back and guard their wings.

   The prospect was at once daunting and exciting.

 

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So apparently we're continuing. Isn't that swell...