Through Fire Read online

  Chapter 12

  Flint stood at the edge of the field, skimmed his eyes over the crowd, and watched the lone figure walk away to the shield wall. At this distance Flint couldn’t make out his features, but he recognised the bulging upper body and spindly legs of Vistor Ambrel. The older man wore the same grey suit he’d had through the trial, but now he carried a green backpack with a bedroll and enough gear to keep him alive, for a time. The families of the lost riggers had wanted to hang him, and the men who’d been hurt or had their rigs damaged by Nathor’s bombs had agreed, until Flint had shown everyone a single, blackened piece of metal, the last shred of the Eagle. That, he had said, was the last remains of Vistor’s plan. Everyone in the bay had heard the explosions, and when, after looking at Diana, he’d suggested exile, the riggers had listened, and the city folk had accepted it, including however many had intended to wield guns for him. Now Vistor trudged towards the shield wall, the wild lands, and whatever life he could make out there. Flint didn’t know if it was merciful or cruel, but it was over, and that was enough.

  He turned his back on the scene and hurried to the hangar. Once inside the vast old building, he went straight to the rig. As he’d expected, the workers had cleared out for the sentencing and banishment, so no one got in his way or questioned him when he approached the great old hulk. They’d done a decent job; filled gouges in the skin with aerogel, welded them over with new layers of titanium, replaced a big strip of the right wing, resurfaced the bottom layer, and replaced the tires the rig ran on during take-off and landing. The weld points showed, the new titanium plates stood out against the old smooth skin, and the rig looked like a patchwork monster rather than the toughest, proudest rig in the city. Worse yet, they hadn’t got around to replacing the bubble windows. The originals lay somewhere at the bottom of the bay, and no one in the city had a maker machine designed to produce that kind of material. Some of the makers were talking about new techniques, and others were arguing for scrapping some of the rigs damaged in the race, though the owners were fighting the notion. For the time being, the repair team had cobbled together a lot of plastic house windows. They covered the cockpit, flat, hard-edged and crisscrossed with lines, but Flint could at least see through them. He reached up and smacked the window, and it didn’t fall apart.

  “Guess it’ll do,” he said, and noticed that someone had found the rhino figurine and put it back on the dash. He smiled and headed around to the door. When he got there, he saw light spill out from within, a shadowy figure framed in the entrance. He paused, let his eyes adjust, and recognised a familiar silhouette. “Diana.”

  She wore a long black dress and her hair framed her face. Her diamond pendant hung over her clothes, bright against the black fabric. “You took your time.”

  “Had to wait for the sentencing. Had to see it done.”

  “And then you came straight here. Nothing left in the bay for you?”

  He shrugged. “You knew I was going to get out as soon as I had a chance. This city isn’t the place for me.”

  “Uh huh, that’s brave, especially if you’re gonna fly away in this busted old piece of scrap.”

  “This piece of scrap saved your life. More than once.”

  She waved a finger. “There’s just one problem, Flint. The race.”

  He shook his head. “The race was never finished. Pretty soon someone’s going to notice that, and when the riggers get over the horrible smash-up that Nathor and Caerlion caused, they’ll agree. You’ll get a proper new President, and everyone can get on with life.”

  She pointed her finger at him. “But a lot of people say we’ve already got a President.”

  He winced. “Look, it’s not that I don’t find it flattering, but I didn’t even do it right. You’re supposed to stop at all these places, trade, fetch water at the tower, buckets of things you’re supposed to do, and I skipped near all of them.”

  She took the gun out from a pocket in her dress. “People have seen this now. They’ve seen the Dragon hobble back to the city, like they saw the Rhino.”

  “The Dragon, great. You want a President so bad, you should talk to Jerethy. It was supposed to be him all along, he’s got that pride and honour thing working for him, very presidential. If we fixed up the rigs, he’d win in an instant, hands down.”

  “I talked to Jerethy.” She put her head on one side. “He wants you.”

  He began to feel trapped. “No way. The bast- The sonof- That fellow hates me.”

  She shook her head. “No. Well yes, but he hated Nathor more, and my uncle, too, for, you know, treachery. Anyway, he says you won the race. He says you beat the King of Fire. He says he supports you, and any man who argues will answer to him.” She leaned forward. “And he also told me that if you take what’s left of the Rhino and run, he’ll catch up to you once the Dragon’s fixed up, and you two can have a private race. A very short race near a very high cliff.”

  He swallowed. “He hates me.”

  She grinned. “Oh yeah. You beat him. You beat Nathor. You beat the King. He’d like to pulp you. He also ordered the workers here to go slow on your repairs.”

  “That bastard.” He shook his head and sat down beside her. “I don’t even know how to be President.”

  “It’s easy. You shout at people, and they do what you say.”

  He eyed her. “Is that how your father ran things?”

  She shrugged. “What do I know? I’m twelve.”

  They sat in silence for a bit, and then Diana hefted the pistol in her lap. “Time to make a choice, Flint.”

  “You wouldn’t shoot me, Diana.”

  “You never know. When I shot the jug of beer, I was aiming at Jerethy’s left ear.”

  The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Someday I’m going to tell him you said that.”

  “If you’re President, you can tell him tomorrow.”

  “Nah, that’d be something to keep, like a fine old piece of cheese.”

  “You want to save it and let it get riper and stinkier until one day you bring it out and Jerethy’s head explodes.”

  He clapped his hands. “That’s a terrible image for a twelve year old. I like it.”

  She jabbed his ribs with the gun. “You can’t talk about the future if you run away.”

  “Because Jerethy will kill me?”

  “No. Because there won’t be a future. Tomorrow will be like today. Jerethy might not murder you, but he’s a stuffy old man, and if he takes the job he’ll make sure that nothing ever changes. You see this?” She lifted up her pendant so the diamond flashed in the light. “You’ve been telling me to dump this thing ever since the day we met. I didn’t understand then, but I get it now. Uncle Vistor wanted to put a chain around everyone’s neck, and we stopped him, but I’ve still got this, and so has every other girl. I know you hate it, and you want to change it, but if you run, it’ll always be this way.”

  “You could run with me.”

  She shook her head. “I thought about that. I could go live in the forest with Caldy and Aunty Blacksnake, but I’d have to leave all my friends, and I’d always know that I was hiding and running, instead of trying to fix the city. Besides, there’s one other thing here. If I’m gonna be free, I want it to be my kind of freedom. Daddy left me something that Uncle Vistor wasn’t able to poison. I don’t think he even dared touch it. I’m the last of the Ambrels, and that means it’s gonna sit here and wait for me.”

  His eyes widened. “You’re talking about the Star.”

  She turned a fierce gaze on him. “It’s a big world, and I want to see it all, and I want to do it for myself. And one day, maybe, I’ll even run in the race.”

  His breath caught in his throat. “You… You want my job, huh? Might have to wait a while.”

  “Nah,” she said, and patted the gun. “I’ve got it under control.”

  He sat for a long time, thinking it over. At last he stood. “You’re sure about this?”

  She nodded.

 
; “Follow me.” He led her out of the hangar, through the town, and down to the seashore. He walked past the warning signs, crunched along the yellow sand, and stopped at the place where the waves lapped the shore. He turned to the girl. “Do you mean what you said?”

  She nodded.

  “Show me.”

  A gust of wind blew her hair back, and her red eyes shone with the light of the sky and the sea. She reached back and undid the necklace, coiled it in her hand, and held it a moment. Then she swung her arm back and hurled the necklace out over the water. The diamond glittered in flight, and the golden chain sparkled as it trailed, and then the necklace fell to the sea, and vanished beneath the calm blue waves.