NaNoWriMo 2022

High in the Sky

American Kingdom Day 40

Previous chapter:

Our plane to Tel Aviv was a lot smaller than our flight from Texas. In fact, I am sure that Business Class on this airbus was pretty much the same as Economy a few rows back with the exception that each middle seat was blocked off, leaving four seats per row, two each side of the single aisle. Spartan rather than luxurious. Then again, was I paying for this?

No.

“I’ll sit with Sergeant Wandurn,” Seth said, ushering her to the frontmost window seat, “and the rest of you can fight amongst yourselves; we have the six seats on this side of the cabin.”

“Aisle or window?” I asked Nathan.

He shrugged, so I snaffled the window. It wasn’t as if I got to look out over the Mediterranean every day, now was it?

A glass of wine was offered after we took our seats. To my surprise, Nathan waved his away. Oh, we’ll be meeting our new CO at the far end. Of course.

“Juice, please.”

“Nathan,” I said once we were airborne and the dusty landscape of central Spain was losing detail as we climbed, “I’m beginning to feel like a spare wheel here.”

“Oh,” he said, mournfully regarding the glass of water with which he was celebrating a luxury flight over an exotic landscape, “why is that, Molly?”

“Annie and Oscar are on top of the world. They have rank, professional skills, a newfound love, and a fairytale wedding in a palace tomorrow. Hazel has been thrown into a job that demands her technical skills and if she does well she’s likely to earn a medal or something from the Regent.”

“Cool. Some comms problem, is it?”

An old security lecture about ‘need to know’ surfaced in my head, breathing out a message of ‘loose lips sink ships’ before sounding into my subconscious depths.

“Yeah. I don’t have the details but I think she’ll be dropped in at the deep end. Probably being briefed by Viscount Seth right now.”

Nathan’s brow furrowed. “I’m going to have to bone up on these titles. I don’t think that’s quite right.”

“I hope there’s a library. We were supposed to get a copy of the handbook at graduation. All I have is the summary Duke Francis gave me.”

Nathan looked up at the overhead rack where our carry-on bags were stowed. “You don’t have it on you? My copy is in my duffle. Our CO will likely have some title and it would be good to get that exactly right.”

“Um, good question. I just threw everything into whichever bag was closest. I’ll have a hunt later. I don’t think we can go too far wrong if we just say Sir and My Lord to everyone.”

“Yeah. Close enough is good enough. That the attitude they teach in the Rangers?”

“I’m not in the Rangers anymore, I don’t know that I want to build a career in the Palace, and if it makes you happy, I’ll look through my bag right now.”

“I think they are going to serve dinner now, judging by the smells coming out of the galley. It’s a four-hour flight; there’s time after.” Good. The few morsels I’d lifted from Hazel’s plate had done nothing much beyond setting the juices flowing. I wanted more.

“Nathan, you wanted this posting. You’ll do well because you want to do well. You’ll be fine. I’m kind of feeling like I’m some kind of circus freak again. Everyone wanting to look at my scar and ask me what the Pearly Gates looked like.”

We were interrupted by a flight attendant asking us for meal choices — cod with vegetables and mustard sauce or spinach gnocchi — and drinks.

“Are Mr and Mrs T aboard?” Nathan enquired. He was met with a blank stare.

“He wants a Virgin Mary,” I helpfully explained. “I’d like a zero-alcohol beer, if you have something like that?”

When the drinks arrived, Nathan had a glass of tomato juice with pepper sprinkled on top and I had a can of some Italian beer labelled “Analcolic”.

“Do not say a fucking word,” I explained to him.

It wasn’t too bad, actually. Washed down my gnocchi very nicely.

Sunset arrived surprisingly early, turning the sea and clouds and islands below into a sumptuous taste of glory. I found my printout on the titles and ranks of God’s American Kingdom and we quizzed each other until Nathan the SEAL was satisfied that Molly the Ranger had reached the same standard of divine knowledge as he had.

And then we were gliding down into another airport, strange lights and signs in foreign lettering, Seth leading us through immigration where — I kid you not — our passports were examined with microscopes and then a short ride to a helicopter.

“Hot insertion,” I said to Nathan. “Soon as we hit the ground, roll out and assume a fire position.”

Next chapter:

The whole story:

Notes

No doubt about it. My pace here has slowed. But I’m now writing in my other accounts, and I’m taking the time to think more about what I’m writing.

I’m still writing on Medium and publishing as I go. There’s very little revision so far, apart from fixing a couple of errors. Essentially I’m like the old-school thriller writer inserting a roll of butchers paper into their typewriter and just writing until the story is finished.

The difference here is that one end of the roll is in the typewriter and the other is published with people all over the world reading it.

Not many, but I’m earning a few cents with each chapter.

Molly