The Gender Fall (The Gender Game #5)(51)

A sharp rap on the door jolted my attention from the screen, and I flicked another switch, putting the craft in a locked holding pattern, before looking up. The woman herself stood in the doorway, her brown eyes on me. “They’ve arrived at the destination,” Ms. Dale announced with a nod. “They’re unboxing the drone now.”

“Give me one second,” I said, and she nodded and left. I quickly adjusted the controls and flew the drone toward the barn, landing it right outside one of the doors. Powering off the remote, I slid it from my lap—it was too heavy and awkward for me to lift with my cast—and then stood up.

I moved down the hallway, through the dining room and kitchen area, stepping into a room on the opposite side. The strange room took up the width of the house on this side and was clearly a trophy room of sorts. Animal heads were mounted on the wall, while furs stretched over the mismatched chairs sitting near the fireplace opposite the door. A sofa running along the inner wall also had a few dark brown furs draped over it. I wasn’t sure what kind of animal the skins were from, but if I’d had to guess, I would have said bear.

In this room, Ms. Dale and Thomas had set up a long, collapsible table along the rear wall of the house, and they’d carried in several screens and computers while I was tinkering with the drone. I had offered to help, but Ms. Dale had waved me off, insisting my time would be better spent resting or practicing. As I entered, Ms. Dale was leaning over Thomas, going over a few of the pictures once more, and neither seemed to notice me at first.

We were using some of our camp’s precious electricity for this mission. Since I’d been awake, I’d learned the farmhouse had been off the grid when Ms. Dale had found it, but she’d picked it partially for the old generator in the basement. Thomas and some of the refugees had managed to patch it up, and while they’d also brought several smaller, state-of-the-art generators from Ashabee’s stash, it would be easy to max them out for non-emergency situations.

Besides, Ms. Dale and Thomas had both insisted keeping the lights off made us much less of a target at night in case another heloship came by. Thus, the camp had fire-cooked soup and tea heated on the wood stove in the kitchen, hand-washed laundry with hand-pumped water; the makeshift sickbay, the handhelds that needed charging, and Thomas’s spying equipment were the only things we were allowed to use power for. It was vital for this mission, especially for staying connected to our crew—and since the drones charged electrically as well, I was insanely grateful we had it.

I moved over to a ladder-back chair pulled out in front of the table, the familiar remote control set up in front of it. Sitting down, I looked over to where Thomas and Ms. Dale were still softly speaking and cleared my throat. Almost as one, they turned toward me.

“Good,” Ms. Dale said, straightening up, as though I had announced myself. “Viggo just let me know the drone is out of the box. Here.” She handed me a gray case, and I opened it up, pulling out the headset and earbud that would allow me to communicate with Viggo and Owen. Unlike the previous missions we had used subvocalizers on, there weren’t any separate channels set up, which meant everything would be heard by everyone. Ms. Dale and Thomas were already geared up in simple headsets with microphones; since the three of us were in a secure location, we wouldn’t need to use the subvocalizers, and would be patching our regular voices into Owen and Viggo’s ears through these while they communicated to us via subvocalizers, the devices scanning their vocal cords and reconstructing the sounds they would make in exacting detail.

I pushed the earbud into my ear and pressed the small button on the base. Immediately I heard Viggo’s voice coming through the line, probably speaking to Ms. Dale.

—set up the drone about fifty yards from the base, beyond the tree line. Getting ready to activate, advise when Violet is ready.

“I’m here,” I said into the headset’s mic, smiling despite myself as I heard his voice.

Good, came Viggo’s reply. We’ll power up the drone now.

“Go ahead.” I clicked on the remote and looked up at the drone’s view screen, which Thomas had wired to also display on the television across from me. The screen flickered, filled with darkness; I turned on the camera on the drone’s belly and flipped the switch to night vision. Immediately, green and black filled the screen, and I found myself looking at tree trunks and grass. “Back away from the drone,” I ordered as I slid my fingers into the metal tubes.

We’re clear, announced Owen, and I immediately moved my middle finger up, causing the drone to rise up into the air. I kept the speed slow, remembering the drone’s engines would be stiff until they warmed up. A small red proximity alarm flashed on the screen, and I used my thumb to quickly switch the view to the nose camera, adjusting the drone until it was pointed upward. A large branch cut across my path, so I adjusted the course, weaving slowly in and out of the forest canopy until I cleared the tops of the trees.

Reading the compass on the display, I manipulated the tubes again, angling the drone toward the labor camp. A series of bright white lights began to appear, set on tall, thin poles barely visible in their own light—I blinked, momentarily turning away from the screen and switching to the drone’s low-level light setting as the camera flared with green, the night vision setting taking in far too much light. Recovered, I moved toward the bright balls, knowing those were the lights that illuminated the camp.