Skyward (The Skyward Series Book 1)

By the time I reached Alta Base, I had a pretty solid plan. It all revolved around the one person I knew had access to the battle replays.

Cobb’s office was a little thing he kept immaculately clean and sterilized of all personal effects. No pictures on the walls, no books on the shelves.

Today, he sat working at his narrow desk, reading some reports and marking them with a red pencil. He glanced up as I knocked on the window, then turned back to his work.

I slipped the door open.

“FM’s been looking for you,” he said, moving one sheet onto another stack. “I told her I didn’t know where your cave was. But if you want to contact the others, tune to 1250 on your radio. That’s Arturo’s house band.”

“Thanks.” I took a deep breath, going over my carefully planned words. “Sir, I hope I don’t get into trouble for this, but Jorgen and I drove out and fetched Hurl’s pin. For her family.” I stepped forward and set it on the desk. “He called in to ground support and warned them we were driving past.”

Cobb sighed. “Well, I guess it isn’t forbidden.” He picked up the pin. “Did you clear this with salvage?”

“Er, no, sir.”

“That means more paperwork for me,” he said.

“We gave her a pilot’s burial, sir,” I said. “Best we could manage. Will you tell her family for me?”

He tucked the pin away. “They’ll like that, cadet. And I doubt even salvage will complain when I put it to them that way. But do try not to get me into any more trouble this week.”

“I’ll try, sir,” I said, searching for a good way to move on to what I really wanted. Something that wouldn’t raise too much suspicion from Cobb. “I wish I could use my time somehow. This much leave is kind of frustrating.”

“Medical leave can shoot itself into the sun,” Cobb agreed. “I like Thior—she keeps pushing for things like counseling for pilots, good ideas. But she needs to understand that the last thing a bunch of grieving soldiers need is more free time.”

“They won’t let me fly or train, but maybe …” I pretended to give it some thought. “Maybe I could watch old battles? To learn from them?”

“Archive is in building H,” Cobb said, pointing. “They have headsets you can use for viewing the battles. You’ll need my authorization code for the door. Two six four oh seven.”

A dozen different arguments—which I’d prepared to nudge him toward offering this—died on my lips.

That … was easy.

“Um, thanks,” I said, trying not to show how excited I was. “I guess I’ll go, um, do that then.”

“Cadets aren’t supposed to use the archive. If you run into trouble, tell them I sent you to fetch something for me, then get out. I’ll do the paperwork for that, if I have to. Scudding bureaucrats.” Cobb moved a sheet from one stack to the other. “And Spin?”

“Sir?”

“Sometimes, the answers we need don’t match the questions we’re asking.” He looked up at me. “And sometimes, the coward makes fools of wiser men.”

I met his eyes, then blushed, thinking of what I’d said to him the day before. In anger. Just because you want to justify your cowardice doesn’t mean we have to do the same!

“I’m … sorry, sir, for—”

“Get going. I’m not completely ready to deal with you yet.”

“Yes, sir.”

I stepped out of the office. That look in his eyes—he’d known exactly why I wanted to watch old battles. He’d seen through my subterfuge immediately.

Then why had he given me the code to get in?

I made my way to the proper building, used the code, and started walking through the archive shelves. Many were filled with old books that had been carried with the crew of the fleet: histories of Old Earth, the writings of philosophers. Mostly ancient stuff, but there were modern writings too. Manuals and histories.

Pilots moved about here, their pins glittering on their blue jumpsuits. As I regarded them, I realized why Cobb might have let me do this. I was less than two months away from graduation. On one hand, it seemed incredible that so much time had passed. On the other, a lot had been packed into those few months.

Either way, I’d soon have been given access to this place. Maybe Cobb knew I’d inevitably find the secrets, so he didn’t mind letting me in now? Or was it that he feared I’d somehow be denied this privilege, even if I did graduate? So he was making certain I got the chance now.

I didn’t dare ask for directions; I couldn’t risk someone noticing the color of my pin and asking why a cadet was in here. I poked through the musty, too-quiet room until I found a wall of small metal cases with dates and battle names on the spines. They were perhaps four centimeters square, and I watched as a pilot took one from the wall and plugged it into a viewing machine. She leaned forward, settling her eyes into the headset to watch.

This was what I wanted, though these cases only went back five years. Around the corner, I found a second room. The door was closed, but the windows along the sides showed it had more cases inside. I tried Cobb’s code on the door.

It opened, and I slipped inside, heart thumping. Nobody else was in here, and the short rack of metal cases counted backward all the way to … to the one. The Battle of Alta. There were a few before it, but this one seemed to glow on the shelf, beckoning me.

There weren’t any missing spots in this row. These didn’t get moved often. There also wasn’t a viewing device in here. So … did I just grab it and go?

Bold. Defiant. Even if lately you don’t feel like you’re either one.

I palmed the case and ducked out of the room. No alarms sounded. Not quite believing it, I stepped out of the building, my prize in hand.

The secret. Right here, in my fingers. I owed Cobb an enormous debt—not just for today, but for everything. For making space for me in his classroom, when no one else would give me a chance. For suffering me all these weeks, for not punching me square in the face when I’d called him a coward.

I’d make it up to him. Somehow. I tucked the data square into my pocket and strode toward the training building. I could probably plug this in to my mockpit, though could I even use that while on medical leave?

I was so single-minded in my attention that I didn’t notice the people I was passing until one called out to me. “Wait. Spin?”

I froze, then turned. It was FM, wearing a skirt. Like, a real skirt and blouse, her short blonde hair done with silver barrettes.

“Stars, where have you been?” she said, grabbing me by the arm. “In your cave?”

“Where else would I be?”

“You have leave.” she said. “The domineering authoritaria has relaxed its viselike grip on us. We can go off base.”

“I go off base every night.”

“This is different,” she said, pulling me by my arm. “Come on. You’re lucky Quirk sent me to fetch something for her.”

“Kimmalyn?” I said. “You’ve seen her since she left?”

“Of course I have. It’s not like she moved to another planet or something. Come on.”

I wasn’t likely to change FM’s mind when she was in one of her crusading moods … so I let her tow me after her. Out past the gates of the base. Along the rows of buildings, into one I’d never paid much attention to before.

Which held a completely new world.