The Plague Forge [ARC] by Jason M. Hough Page B

“When do you leave?”
    “As soon as a suitable aircraft—”
    The sound of roaring engines drowned her words.
    “Easy,” Skyler said.
    Vanessa tapped the stick with a gentle deftness, pushing the bulky aircraft back over the clearing just outside the colony’s gates. “You can take over,” she said.
    “Your bird, your landing.” He grinned at her reaction and studied the array of instruments before his co-pilot’s chair just to be safe.
    The aircraft, designed for coastal patrol and rescue, had ample storage and crew capacity, excellent range, a full medical bay with supplies, and even a winch to lift people or gear while hovering at one hundred meters. Skyler felt a little jealous, in truth. The Magpie’s only advantage was top speed. Well, that and luxury, but Skyler had no use for the latter. Given the choice he’d take this craft any day, but given the circumstances he felt it better that he make do with the lesser aircraft.
    He tested the intercom as Vanessa descended. “You boys okay back there?”
    “Copy that,” the one named Colton replied. The young man, one of the better scavengers Skyler had trained, spoke easily despite the thunderous noise around the craft. Out of necessity he’d worn an environment suit for the mission, and he had apparently figured out how to plug it into the intercom. “Some bits weren’t quite secured, but Nach’ and I have it all sorted.”
    They’d spotted the aircraft in one of the gigantic collage picture layouts they’d assembled of the city. A barge, run aground on the shore of the Pará just north of the city, had caught their attention. It was listing as it deteriorated, revealing a portion of the tarp-covered cargo it carried: the tail wing of an aircraft. It was a hell of a piece of scavenging work, he thought, and had told them as much. He could only imagine what kind of operation Prumble could run with these two geniuses working for him, and grinned at the idea. Maybe it would come to pass, if everything ran according to plan.
    The aircraft rotated at a leisurely pace as Vanessa pointed the nose toward the colony’s gate. Water and dust began to stir from the ground below, filling the air around them. Skyler saw colonists on the wall now. They held hats to their heads in the press of the powerful wind. He waved at them.
    The craft had a similar design to the Melville, with four cap-driven engines out at the ends of four broad wings. Unfortunately it did not have the plating required for atmospheric reentry, an exceedingly rare feature given that it made sense only for people or parties with access to the space elevator in Darwin. Even on the other side of the planet, Skyler had only seen a few such vehicles in his years searching.
    He could hardly complain, though. This bird had a larger cargo capacity, bigger crew compartment, and could even lift heavy loads. It was a boon.
    The gun felt cool in her hand. Perfectly weighted, solid.
    In a way, she could appreciate the art of it. The masterful combination of ergonomics, design, and engineering were beyond question. Tania had never cared much for guns. She’d seen them as a tool for killing, and she saw killing as something human beings should not be in the business of. Even after the subhumans arrived it had been easy for her, from her isolated, almost utopian place aboard Anchor Station, to take the position that there must be a more humane way to deal with the former people.
    Her opinion had changed.
    “That’s my favorite,” Ana said quietly.
    Tania thumbed the clip release, pulled it out, and slapped it back in. “It’s a Sonton?”
    “SIG Sauer, actually. Not as common, but I like the way it feels and since the ammo is the same …” She shrugged. “No laser sight. I find those distracting. Of course, Skyler chides me for it, but—”
    Footsteps on the stairs cut her words short.
    “What do I chide you for?” Skyler stepped into the windowless room and paused to let his eyes adjust. Tania