Breaking Sky(29)

“I’m here, General Tourn,” she managed.

“You acted to assist those people.” For a heartbreaking moment she thought he was going to give her a strand of praise. “That is the only reason you are still a pilot. Understood?”

“Yes, General Tourn.”

His watery gray eyes stared hard into the camera, but they were so unseeing that it made her feel transparent. The picture fuzzed and then blanked. He’d hung up.

Chase made a guttural, wounded sound. She’d been so prepared for his harshest words that the brevity of the ones he’d given her smashed her to pieces.

? ? ?

A half hour later, Chase was still in the conference room. Kale had stayed. He sat next to her and kept quiet while she bled tears as though she were twelve years old all over again.

When she didn’t have anything left, Kale finally spoke. “Get some rest. And have a little fun where you can find it. You’re off restricted duty. Your father might not share my outlook, but I believe you showed bravery and good judgment when you aided Phoenix’s escape and rescued those people in the hangar.”

Chase took a breath that was supposed to steady her but made her shake instead.

“We’ll get you back in the air as soon as possible.” Kale knew her so well. She needed Dragon. Direction and speed.

“Thank you for staying. I know how ridiculous this is.”

“Ridiculous?”

“I’ve spent so long not caring about him.” She scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks. “But this looks an awful lot like caring.”

“I wouldn’t judge. He made me cry once.”

Chase choked on a laugh. “You’re lying, General.”

“No. He beat me senseless. It was my first semester at the academy. He was older, overseeing a drill, and I dropped behind during a running exercise and gave up. When he came back to find me, I was sitting on the edge of the road with my head between my knees.” Kale paused. “I was in the infirmary for two nights after he was finished with me.”

Chase stood and it wasn’t so bad. She opened the door. “So my father’s always been an *, is that it? Sometimes I hope that…after what he did…maybe that changed him into the Tourn he is today. Maybe he was once human.”

Kale looked strained. No doubt he didn’t want to talk about Tourn’s nuclear history. “I’ll tell you this, Harcourt. I’ve never given up midstride again.”


Chase left wondering if Kale was implying there was a method to her father’s madness—but her thoughts stalled there. Tristan was on the hallway floor, his arms over his knees and his head back against the wall. He looked like a strange mixture of lost and found.

He looked like he had been listening the whole time.

“The pilot who dropped that bomb. Who killed all those Filipinos…”

She stumbled, trying to walk away fast, but the hall was a tunnel and his voice was strong.

“He’s your father?”

Chase should have stopped. Turned back. She should have sworn him to secrecy with some massive bribe or threat. She should have done something, but her fear dawned blindingly. And she ran.





15


    MISSILE LOCK


   Oh, F@ck


Chase hadn’t been in the embrace of the sky for a week. Not since the night flight to JAFA and back again. She missed Dragon. She missed mach speed and all its glorious direction. She missed being able to think about something—anything—other than the fact that Tristan Router knew the secret of her parentage.

She kept reliving that moment when she’d stepped into the hall. The very focused yet resigned look on Tristan’s face. The way he had seemed small, folded up on the floor even though he was nearly a foot taller than her.

What had he been doing there? Waiting? Eavesdropping?

Her anxiety wrestled with the memory, smacked it down only to feel it flip into anger. It almost made her want to catch Tristan and threaten the breath out of him, but her fear held even those more Nyx-like aggressions in check. She was in new territory, and it was like waking up in a room that she hadn’t fallen asleep in.

It didn’t help that Tristan had assumed an ambitious social agenda, gallivanting around the Star, making friends with everyone. He was already liked and trusted, and if he told one person, just one, she would no longer be the elusive celebrity pilot but the black sheep. The girl who didn’t deserve to be at the Star.

Chase lay across her bunk like roadkill, exhausted from frustration, when Pippin came in. She rolled over, half falling off the mattress. “How’s the library?”

“Wasn’t at the library,” he said.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Out.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Out where?”

Pippin sat down and scribbled in his notebook. “I haven’t been with anyone.”

“Wow, that wasn’t even my question. What’s going on?” He didn’t answer, so she added, “I’ll tell you what’s going on with me.”

Pippin eyed her wearily. “Will you?”

“Um…” Chase braked. She hadn’t told him about her talk with Tourn—or that Tristan knew about her dad. That would mean discussing it. No way. Pippin might be her only real friend at the Star, but she had limits.