Sterling Squadron (27 page)

“Felix? You made it? Thank goodness! Where’s Emma?”

“She’s okay—with me,” Felix replied. “We’re on the ground, but I think we’re going to need
matching
casts this time.”

  33  

ETHAN STRODE THROUGH THE SEED BANK
hospital ward. The walls had self-heating glow tiles that made it feel like a warm sunny day even deep underground. The acting NCO of Sterling Squadron, Corporal Madison J. Irving, walked by his side, her head held high.

He was glad Madison was here. When he’d climbed out of his wasp, he’d shaken so badly he could barely stand. In front of Madison, though, Ethan had been able to stuff his fear deep down and look reasonably normal (although he still felt as if he shook on the inside).

Ethan and Madison pushed through the door to the
recovery ward, and he caught the sharp scent of antiseptic alcohol, a honeysuckle odor from those gross caterpillar bandages, and, of course, from the rows of beds, the smell of blood and singed hair.

So many Resister pilots had been hurt but kept fighting, obeying Ethan’s orders.

He stopped at Paul’s bedside.

“You okay?” he asked Paul.

Paul lifted his caterpillar-wrapped arm. “A little burn,” he said. “Nothing I can’t handle. The mantis is going to need serious work, though.” He tried to brush his sandy hair out of his face but couldn’t with the bandaged limb. He smiled. “Let’s do it again sometime, Lieutenant.”

Ethan shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Madison fussed over Paul, brushing the hair from his face and fluffing a pillow for him.

Ethan knew it was going to be okay between Paul and him. Paul would always hate him a little. He’d forever be pushing to see who was the better pilot (Ethan was), but they weren’t to-the-death rivals anymore, and he’d follow Ethan’s orders. They were both Resisters fighting the same enemy.

Ethan patted Paul on the shoulder, just hard enough to make him wince.

He and Madison marched down the ward to check on the others.

Paul thankfully hadn’t asked the one thing Ethan couldn’t talk about. If he had, the fear bottled inside him would have bubbled up. He’d lose it. Ethan would have cried in front of everyone.

Only, lieutenants didn’t cry in front of the pilots under their command.

He and Madison visited pilots with busted fingers and arms, with minor internal injuries from the bruising acceleration of the protracted dogfight, a few with cracked skulls, and so many with laser and plasma burns.

Ethan clasped their hands and had encouraging words for all, but every time he bolstered
their
faith in the Resistance, a bit of
his
melted away.

Was this what being an officer meant?

Geez, he was only second lieutenant. How did Colonel Winter deal with the pressure? How had Dr. Irving survived being grand admiral of the air and supreme commander?

Ethan guessed because they
had
to. You did whatever it took to survive in a war.

He and Madison finally came to Angel’s bed.

He knew he had to face the big question. If not for himself, then for her.

Sitting by her bedside were the rest of the Sterling kids: Kristov, Oliver, and Lee. They stood as Ethan neared. Even Angel sat up straighter.

“At ease,” he told them.

Ethan would never get used to that. It made him feel like he wasn’t one of them anymore.

Angel’s black wasp I.C.E. had got a wing singed when she blasted a chunk off the hive’s tail. The wing could be regrown, but it’d taken her out of the fight.

She’d landed, and Carl had dropped to the ground to make sure she was okay.

A stray shell from ant lion artillery had ripped open Carl’s suit. Resister search-and-rescue teams never found his body.

Carl, the boy who’d first greeted them in Ward Zero in a hospital gown, was missing in action. He was one of three pilots who, in all likelihood, had been taken by the Ch’zar.

They’d accelerate the puberty processes in those kids and absorb them into the Collective. They’d make them fight for the enemy. They’d
be
the enemy.

Angel looked into Ethan’s face. The crazy gleam was gone from her eyes.

“Doctors told me I tore a few ligaments from the rough landing,” she said. “Nothing that’ll take me out of the fight for long.”

It sounded like a fight, though, was the last thing she wanted now.

They stared at one another for a long moment. Her cracked lips parted, and she tried to get words out but couldn’t.

She couldn’t ask the question that was on everyone’s mind: Were Carl and the other pilots gone for good? Was there
any
hope that the kids, the adults, any human the Ch’zar had taken could come back?

“A few days ago,” Ethan said, “they told me it’d be impossible to break into Sterling and rescue anyone. A few days ago, I thought the Ch’zar had my sister and I’d never see her again. And a few days ago, the enemy was about to find the Seed Bank and wipe us out.”

He made eye contact with all the kids (this was the same thing Colonel Winter did when she gave a speech). “We turned it around,” he said. “Made the impossible, possible. We’ll get our people back. All of them.”

Angel nodded. A tear trickled down her cheek. She didn’t sob, didn’t look sad. Instead, she looked ready to fight again … and not because she loved to fight. She had a reason now.

“Get better,” Ethan whispered to her, and moved on.

Inside, he shook a tiny bit less.

Did he believe his own words? He wasn’t sure. Yes. Some. Maybe.

He and Madison then marched to Felix and Emma’s private room.

Those two rated their own room because everyone had been mobbing them with congratulations and questions, and neither of the two heroes of the battle had gotten
any
rest.

Madison grabbed Ethan’s hand and pulled him to a halt just outside their door.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, biting her lower lip. “I mean, if I had to order Felix and my own sister to do something so dangerous …” She looked at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t think I could’ve.”

Ethan appreciated her concern. He
did
feel guilty for ordering Felix and Emma on that suicide run. He would have felt worse, though, if he hadn’t and they’d all died.

But for some reason it seemed like it was Madison who needed the comforting.

Ethan squeezed her hand once and let go. He started to put his hand on her slender shoulder like he would’ve for Felix or Paul, a gesture of camaraderie, but that felt wrong with her. There was a static electricity that crackled between them. It was more than the close friendship
between two pilots. It might’ve been all that going-to-dances, dating, boy-girl stuff.

Ethan broke out in a sweat. If so, it’d have to wait.

He was her commanding officer, and that complicated something that already felt more complicated than advanced algebra to him.

“I’d do it again if I had to,” Ethan whispered. “Ordering Emma and Felix in was the only chance we had.”

“Yeah, I get that,” she said. “But do
they
know that?”

Ethan took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Let’s find out.”

He pushed through the swinging door.

Felix had one leg propped up in a cast. He’d rebusted the same leg he’d broken at Sterling. He also had a caterpillar cast on his right arm—elbow to wriggling thumb.

In the bed next to him, Emma had a cast, too, but on her left arm.

They looked like bookends.

“You’ll pardon me, sir, if I don’t salute,” Felix said, and a broad smile spread over his bruised face.

“Hey, little brother,” Emma said. “About time you got down to visit us. Did you bring me a magazine to read or maybe a pencil so I can scratch under this cast? It’s driving me crazy.”

His sister had a black eye, but her nose scrunched and her freckles seemed to dance as she laughed.

This was the next best thing to coming home. Emma, Madison, and Felix were Ethan’s family now.

“You two are lucky,” Ethan told them with mock seriousness. “The doctor said you get to slack for another week. We’re slaving away repairing the I.C.E. suits. So don’t try to milk this ‘busted bone’ thing too long, okay?”

“Forget that.” Emma swung her legs over the side of her bed. “I’m good to go now! I want to see my ladybug.”

The swinging door burst inward and nearly flattened Ethan and Madison, who jumped out of the way at the last second.

Colonel Winter and Dr. Irving entered. The colonel took in the room and pinned Emma with her famous cast-iron glare.

“Your doctor has ordered bed rest, Miss Blackwood,” the colonel told her. “I suggest you follow those orders. It would be a shame to have to finish your recovery in the brig.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Emma yelped, and jumped back into bed.

Dr. Irving whispered to Ethan, “Well done, young man. Your performance on the battlefield was superb. I couldn’t have done better.”

Ethan nodded and cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure how to address Dr. Irving. Was he still the grand admiral of the air? Did that mean he ordered the colonel around?

“I’m glad I caught you all together,” the colonel said. “There’s much to discuss.”

Ethan figured this would be a speech about how brave they were. He hoped she had medals for Emma and Felix. Maybe she’d take away his promotion—say it was a temporary thing, which would be annoying, but also a huge relief.

The colonel moved to Felix’s bed and sat. She tapped his arm cast and made the caterpillar squirm. “One more broken bone? You’re going to catch up to my record soon if you’re not careful.”

Felix gave her a half smile. “Don’t worry, Mom. It only hurts when I move it.”

“Well”—she stood—“I’ll order calcification treatments to accelerate your healing. I’ll need you in the field as soon as possible.”

She took out her tablet computer and flashed it toward them. On-screen was a map of North America.

The red splotches that had once converged on the Appalachian Mountains were gone. There were still a few insect icons here and there on the East Coast, but nothing like before.

“Doctor?” The colonel handed him the tablet.

Dr. Irving tapped on the screen. “This is a simulation of Ch’zar insect population growth, based on our latest updated numbers.”

At first nothing happened.

The red splotches then divided and multiplied and there were hundreds of them again.

“This is within two months,” Dr. Irving said. “The enemy has developed new incubation hives on the East Coast specifically to counter our efforts.”

Colonel Winter cupped her chin, deep in thought, and started to pace.

“But we won …,” Ethan whispered.

The colonel stopped pacing. “We won for today,” she said. “But the Ch’zar will be back. They have learned to learn from their mistakes. Next time they will hit us with more units. They’ll start searching closer to the Seed Bank’s true location. They’ll increase the defenses of any command hive they send in. They
will
find us—it is only a matter of time.”

Silence blanketed the room. The only sounds were the bleeps from the biomonitors on Emma and Felix (which noticeably sped up as the colonel explained the situation).

“We have a new mission for you and your squadron, Ethan,” Dr. Irving said.

“If we can’t fight and win next time,” the colonel said, “we need you to find a location for a new Seed Bank.” She grabbed the tablet from Dr. Irving and shoved it at Ethan.

His hands felt numb, but he somehow took the tablet without dropping it and stared at it.

He
had to find them a new base?

Colonel Winter gazed at him with absolute confidence. That’s what Dr. Irving had told him a
real
commander had to look like. Inspirational.

Ethan then looked to Dr. Irving. He couldn’t read the sparkle in his eyes.

“You know what you have to do, Ethan,” Dr. Irving whispered.

Ethan gulped and tapped on the map, zooming in on the Great Western Desert region.

There might be other bases out there, older military bases from World War IV—before the Ch’zar came and conquered Earth.