Broken Sky by L. A. Weatherly

“Really? Because that’s what I think about you, too,” I said.

  Ingo shrugged. “Fine, so we’re both right. Shall we talk about something more interesting? Which one is your boyfriend? No, I’ll guess.” He twisted in his seat and scanned the room. “That one,” he said, pointing at an old man with pink skin and a bald, gleaming head.

  “How did you know?”

  “I can tell from here. It’s true love.”

  “No, that one, actually.” I motioned to Collie.

  Ingo looked across at the table. “Which one?”

  “The tall one with the blond-ish hair.”

  A waiter appeared at their table and put fresh drinks on it. Collie didn’t look up from whatever Mac was saying. I sighed inwardly, wishing I hadn’t told him this was okay.

  Ingo shook his head, gazing over at him. “This is insane,” he said. “My girlfriend is talking to other girls, your boyfriend is talking to another man – and here we both sit, alone together. Do you think there’s something wrong with us?”

  “Which one’s your girlfriend? No, I’ll guess.” I examined the table of girls. One, a small, vivacious blonde, tipped her head back as she laughed.

  “The blonde?”

  Ingo’s expression turned complicated as he studied her. “Her name is Miriam,” he said at last.

  “She’s very beautiful.”

  “Yes.” Ingo didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Abruptly, he rose and held his hand out to me. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s dance. I can make her jealous, and you can make your boyfriend jealous.”

  When I hesitated, he grinned and waggled his fingers. “You must confess it’s appealing.”

  “What’s appealing is the thought of dancing,” I admitted; the music was tugging at me. “All right – let’s.”

  Ingo wasn’t the dancer Collie was. He held me too carefully, and I could tell it was only through force of will that he wasn’t studying his feet. But I enjoyed it. Dancing with Collie kept me on edge; the touch of his hand was electric. Dancing with Ingo just felt comfortable, as if I’d known him a long time. I smiled at the contradiction.

  “You’re laughing at my dancing,” Ingo said gloomily. “I don’t blame you.”

  I shook my head, my hand on his shoulder as we moved. Ingo was as tall as Collie, but thinner. When I explained what I’d been thinking he laughed. “Comfortable? Fine, so my attempts at seduction are a bust.”

  “Is that what you’re attempting? I don’t think you’re doing it right.”

  Ingo gave a bitter shrug; his smile faded. “No. That blonde witch over there has my heart, I’m afraid.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I glanced back at the girls’ table. Miriam saw us and gave a cheerful wave. She blew Ingo a kiss before turning back to her friends.

  “Very jealous, as you can see,” Ingo said dryly.

  “Well, I don’t think my boyfriend’s even noticed, so you’re ahead on that score,” I said. Collie was still talking, his back to the dance floor. To my irritation, two other men had joined their table now.

  The music changed. Ingo stopped in his tracks suddenly; he held me away from him and gave me a considering, up-and-down look. “You know, you’re prettier than I expected,” he announced.

  I burst out laughing. “Your line’s improving.”

  He grinned as we started dancing again. “All right, that was bad even for me. But you keep shooting me down, damn you. Whenever I imagined you, it was always as some…hag of the air.”

  “Seduction straight ahead, definitely.”

  “I’m not trying for that. I’m just telling you a fact.” After a pause, Ingo added, “I was sorry when you lost your appeal.”

  My voice turned short. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you weren’t.”

  “All right, I was glad for the EA, but…” Ingo made a face as we moved to the music. “Well, we both know it was just your bad luck that your plane went down.”

  “Not bad luck. You got my air bottle.”

  “I did?” He smiled then. “Ah, so that’s why you stopped firing. Well, that was clever of me. I wasn’t sure whether I’d hit you at all up till then.”

  I grimaced, remembering the bullet holes. “Oh, you hit me, all right.”

  “Good. I can take more satisfaction in the win now.”

  “How much more satisfaction do you want? You shot me down.”

  “You know what I mean.” Ingo studied me, his angular face thoughtful. “Don’t you? I think we’re very much the same when it comes to flying – even if you’re crazy. I followed you down, you know. Shouting at you to bail the whole way.”

  I thought of Concordia and my throat tightened. “Yes,” I said. “I know exactly how you felt.”

  “Ah,” Ingo said softly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  We danced in silence for a while. When the music changed to another romantic number, I glanced over at Collie’s table, ready to go drag him away if I had to. My steps slowed abruptly.

  The table stood empty. Two couples were just sitting down at it, laughing, the guys holding the chairs out for the girls.

  “What is it?” asked Ingo.

  “I don’t believe it – my boyfriend’s gone!” I left the dance floor with Ingo behind me; I scanned the crowd as I went. No sign of Collie. “But I don’t understand,” I said blankly. “He wouldn’t just leave.”

  “Shall I check the men’s room for you?” said Ingo. “What’s his name?”

  “Collis.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  While he was gone I did a quick circuit of the club, even stepping out onto the balcony. There was no Collie anywhere. I couldn’t see Mac, either. “What is going on?” I muttered. Had Collie left? Maybe he’d been having a better time with Mac than I’d thought.

  But he wouldn’t leave without telling me.

  As I went back into the main room, I ran into Ingo. “No, he’s not in there,” he said. “Would he have stepped outside for a cigarette?”

  “He doesn’t smoke.”

  Ingo gave a rueful smile. “Maybe we succeeded too much in making him jealous.”

  Irritation lashed at me. “He wouldn’t be jealous,” I snapped. “And he wouldn’t just leave.”

  Ingo raised a dark eyebrow and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Oh? He appears to have done just that.”

  “Yes, thanks for pointing it out. I’d better go try and find him.” I started to leave, then remembered to say, “Thank you for the champagne. And the dancing.”

  “Wait.” Ingo straightened as I started from the room. “Are you just going to wander around the Heat?”

  Remembering the stories of Gunnison’s men dragging CS citizens away, fear was starting to curl inside me. “I don’t know,” I said tersely. “I’ll look around a few places nearby, I guess.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Ingo.

  “Don’t bother.”

  Ingo glanced over at his girlfriend’s table. His eyes hardened. “I might as well,” he said. “Besides, you wouldn’t mind having company, would you? It can be a lonely business, searching.”

  He said it like he knew.

  “Fine,” I said finally. “Come on, if you want.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I couldn’t get my coat back from the coat-check girl because Collie, wherever he was, still had the ticket. It didn’t matter; my anxiety over Collie was keeping me warm enough on its own. Ingo and I went up and down the different streets, looking into clubs and bars.

  In a smoky Parisian speak, a trio of EA pilots greeted Ingo enthusiastically. “It’s Friday night!” cried one. “Why aren’t you here with us?”

  They lapsed into speaking Euro; I heard “Por que el fraulien, jah?” as one threw me a teasing glance.

  “Jah,” Ingo said shortly.

  “What were they saying?” I asked after we left.

  He shrugged. “That Miriam would be upset if she knew about you. A lot they know.”

  The glow of the street lig
hts pooled at our feet. We passed a club that had been built over ruins, with a section of ancient wall left in place for effect. The grey rubble looked stark, depressing – though not as depressing as the astrologer’s sign nearby. Its red-and-black Harmony symbol blinked on and off against the ruins.

  As Ingo and I walked in silence, I rubbed my bare arms. My chest felt very exposed.

  He glanced at me, his hands in his pockets. “I wish you’d take my jacket,” he said. He’d already offered it twice.

  “I don’t want it.”

  “I feel like a louse.”

  “Well, you told me yourself you’re extremely rude.”

  Ingo gave me a look. “All right, how about some coffee?” he said. There was a French-style bistro in front of us, with tables out on the street. “We can keep an eye out in case he passes.”

  It seemed a better idea than trying random places – and The Ivy Room was only a few doors down. I’d be able to spot Collie if he went back in. We sat down and ordered cappuccinos. When they arrived, Ingo tipped sugar into his.

  “I still can’t understand it,” I muttered, warming my hands around the mug. I gazed over at The Ivy Room, hoping that my worry was ridiculous. “Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.”

  Ingo snorted.

  I stared at him. “What?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s just that Miri and I were celebrating, too. So maybe it’s not a good night for it.”

  “What were you celebrating?”

  He looked down, stirring his coffee. Finally his mouth twisted. “All right, I’ll tell you. Today was my peak day.”

  A Peacefighter’s peak day was a big deal, as everyone in this complex knew. He’d made it halfway through his three-year term. Pilots threw wild parties for this, caroused all night.

  I went silent, thinking of Miriam at the table of chattering girls. “Did you have an argument, or—”

  “No.” His tone cut off further questions.

  “Congratulations,” I said after a pause. “Sorry. I should have said that instead of anything else. I can be pretty rude too, sometimes.”

  “Yes – you’re appalling.” Ingo studied me with a small smile, the cafe lights glinting off his dark curls. “You know, if you didn’t have a missing boyfriend, and I didn’t have a neglectful girlfriend…”

  I looked over at The Ivy Room as a crowd headed inside. No Collie. “Skip it,” I told Ingo absently. “You wouldn’t get anywhere with me anyway.”

  “Probably not. Story of my life.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was kidding. After a pause, I glanced back over at him. “Is Miriam a pilot?”

  He gave a bark of laughter, and I raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny? I wouldn’t have pegged you as one of those people who think women shouldn’t fly.”

  “I think you shouldn’t, the number of times you’ve shot me down,” he said. “Women like you should definitely not be flying. You’re a menace.”

  “What, then?”

  “Miriam would never have the patience to learn to be a pilot.”

  “She sounds charming.” The words were out before I could stop them.

  “Oh, believe me, she is.”

  I thought of the slim perfection of Miriam’s throat, her sleek hairdo. “What’s she doing here in the Heat? I can’t imagine her working in one of the restaurants.”

  “Her father’s a WfP official.” Ingo gave me a keen look. “Is it my turn now to ask about the esteemed Collis? For instance, why would he leave you alone in that club with wolves like me around?”

  Yes, why would he? I shrugged, hiding my growing anxiety. “Are you a wolf? You’re not acting very wolflike.”

  “I’m not trying.”

  “Anyway, I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can. But that doesn’t answer the question.”

  The street was having one of those odd pockets of quiet that come sometimes in the Heat at late hours. We were the last two people at the cafe; inside, the waiters leaned against the bar talking.

  I stared over at The Ivy Room and rubbed my bare arms again. Collie, where are you? Unwelcome thoughts had started pounding through me…thoughts about what Collie might have done to escape the CS, and those two other men who had appeared at his and Mac’s table. I shivered.

  Ingo pulled off his tux jacket. “Here,” he said, tossing it onto my lap. “Don’t argue.”

  I sighed and drew it around my shoulders. “Thanks.”

  “So what were you and Collis celebrating tonight?” When I hesitated, Ingo raised a black eyebrow. “I told you mine,” he said.

  His jacket smelled of some exotic cologne; there was a slight bulge in one pocket. I investigated and found a soft, folded handkerchief. “It’s our two-month anniversary,” I said finally. “But I’ve known him all my life.”

  Ingo’s smile did look wolfish now. “So it is true love. How nice.”

  “Just like you and Miriam,” I snapped. “And yes, it is, actually.” Ingo inclined his head in a touché gesture. I was starting to wonder why I’d liked talking to him in the first place.

  Before he could say anything else, gunfire rang out.

  One shot.

  Two more.

  Then silence.

  My eyes met Ingo’s in a startled clash. I leaped up and bolted towards the sound of the shots, with Ingo right behind me. The street was almost empty. A pair of men came tearing from an alleyway and went running past The Ivy Room. I caught a blurred glimpse of curly hair; a bald head.

  I plunged into the alley and stopped short.

  Light fell from a window above. In its faint glow I saw my team leader, lying sprawled in a widening pool of blood.

  “Russ!” I ran to him and dropped to my knees.

  He wore the same pinstriped suit he’d worn to my appeal. His fedora rested beside his outstretched hand. His torso was a dark, soggy mess.

  No. No. I gripped his lapels, frantic, almost shaking him. “Russ! Please say something! It’s me, Amity!”

  Incredibly, Russ’s head moved. He blinked as he struggled to focus on me. A drop of red bubbled at his mouth. “I shot it,” he muttered thickly. “Amity…I shot it…”

  “What?” I could hardly hear what he was saying. “Russ!”

  With a ragged sigh, his head slumped. His brown eyes grew dull.

  He didn’t speak again.

  Ingo kneeled beside me, looking grim. “You knew him?”

  In slow motion I let go of Russ’s lapels and sank back. “My…my team leader.”

  A low, steady drumbeat had started in my head. Russ’s blood looked so dark, so glistening. Like my father’s. Like Concordia’s. Why did all broken bodies look the same?

  “This man was a pilot?” Ingo said.

  “Yes,” I replied shortly.

  “Well, someone didn’t like him much.” Ingo took my arm. “Come. We have to find the police—” He broke off. “What the hell are you doing?”

  I was going through Russ’s pockets. I knew I wasn’t acting rationally, that I must be in shock, but I felt taut with clarity. My fingers scrabbled into the pockets one after the other.

  Nothing. Then I touched a small, slim square and quickly drew it out. I angled it towards the dim light, but couldn’t see details – a packet of some sort. I shoved it into the pocket of Ingo’s jacket, still around my shoulders.

  Ingo’s eyes were as black as the alley’s shadows. “You are insane,” he hissed.

  “Someone’s just killed him. I want to know why,” I said.

  “Are you sure you don’t want his watch as well?”

  “I wasn’t trying to rob him!”

  “The police will—”

  “Amity!”

  I leaped to my feet as Collie appeared at the mouth of the alley, his blond hair rumpled. He stopped short, gaping at Russ’s lifeless form. “What happened?”

  Suddenly I was shaking. I rushed to him and we hugged tightly. “Where have you been?” I cried.

 
“Looking for you!” Collie gasped. He swore as he dropped beside Russ and felt for a pulse that wasn’t there. Slowly, he let go of Russ’s wrist, his face pale. “But who…?”

  “I don’t know! We saw two men, but I didn’t really get a good look. Did you?” I added to Ingo, and he shook his head.

  Collie tore his gaze from Russ. “Who’s this?”

  Now that Collie was here safe in front of me, I knew just how deep my fear had been. “He’s no one!” I snapped. “Just some guy I met. We were having coffee and heard the shots—”

  The sound of sirens interrupted me. Autos with curved, grilled fronts and long gleaming hoods screeched to a halt in front of the alleyway, their headlights flooding the passage with light. Two pairs of policemen swarmed in – asking questions, searching Russ’s body. It turned out the cafe waiters had heard the shots and called them.

  A crowd had gathered outside the alley – mostly from The Ivy Room, judging by their clothes. One of the cops wrote down what I told him about the two men. “So you heard the victim say something, miss?”

  I swallowed. “I’m not sure what. It sounded like ‘I shot it’. Or maybe ‘I shot at’…” Though I was trying not to look, I could see Russ’s hand lying on the ground, palm up, dark fingers curled.

  The policeman scribbled. “Sure he didn’t say ‘I was shot’?”

  I gripped my arms tightly. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Ingo Manfred,” Ingo was saying to another policeman. His lean face looked tense. “A pilot for the European Alliance.”

  “How do you know Miss Vancour?”

  “I don’t. We met at The Ivy Room and had a coffee together, then we heard the shots. That’s it.” His eyes didn’t meet mine. I licked my lips. I’d been positive that he’d mention me rifling through Russ’s clothes. The fact that I’d done so felt like temporary insanity now.

  The small, flat packet was still nestled in my borrowed pocket. Several times I’d opened my mouth to admit what I’d done and hand it over; each time the words wouldn’t come.

  And each time they didn’t, I knew I was digging myself in deeper, until it would be impossible to mention it at all.

  My hands felt sticky. I glanced down and saw Russ’s blood smeared across my skin. Collie saw my expression and quickly put his arm around me, steadying me.