Page 117 of Sky Song
“I found out in my research,” Paloma shared with Cricket in response to the weird mask image, “that Rix pilots never wear a full helmet, and especially the eye part. It messes up their naturally perfect vision.”
On this one, the helmet part appeared to have been crudely ripped off leaving the top of his head uncovered with its intricate tight mohawk hairstyle that didn’t float in zero gravity. The hair looked dark in the low shifting light, not Lyle’s palebrown. And the face above the mask wasn’t Lyle’s - not the sharp cheekbones and neither the deadened bottomless eyes.
“It’s not him.”
“It’s not?” Paloma reared back. For a few more minutes, they watched together the events on the screen as they continued to unfold. The pursuers kept threatening to shoot up the pirate if he didn’t turn around, and the pilot remained silent with only the uneven light from the instruments reflecting off his face in waves, adding a hellish aspect to an already infernal scene.
“No.” Cricket was almost positive. It couldn't be. This man, thispirate, with a high forehead and dark hair, with focused terrifying eyes wasn’t Lyle. “Maybe it’s his father, the what’s-his-real-name Shadow Flyer?”
“Oh, yeah, the father. The father had pirated alright, but he kept it… piraty. And then, after years and years of average criminal achievements, he ramped up his game with more daring, more impossible feats. He started infiltrating heavily populated areas, hijacked freighters from under armed convoys, pulled disappearing acts on military aces. He destroyed docking stations and killed guards in bulk. It’s like the good old Leithis got a major software upgrade.”
“He gained experience?” Cricket ventured a guess.
“His new experience coincided with Rayanor Lyrem coming of age.”
Cricket watched the screen where the pirate was relentlessly flying somewhere even though the image only showed him in his pilot’s chair. He never said anything again.
“So whoisthe real Shadow Flyer?” Cricket murmured and rubbed her hands together, noting how clammy they’d become.
“The name’s been around for a long time, so it was likely the father who used it first. But it’s the son who made itinfamous across the Universe. He was a vicious felon, Cricket. A real boogeyman.”
“This is him? The pirate known as Shadow Flyer?”
“That’s Lyle, Cricket,” Paloma said softly, and Cricket detected a note of pity in her gentle voice.
“But I can’t recognize anything about this Rix.”
As if on cue, the mic in that stolen freighter came alive. “Soft serve, Naem filth. Aim better, shoot faster,” he taunted the fleet commander that was chasing him. Cricket didn’t know what he referred to, but apparently he was being shot at - and missed. Neither could she see his lips move as he spoke - his mouth remained hidden, and she wondered about the lip scar. He reached for controls above his head, the move too quick to see if he missed any fingers. “Say good night.”
The pursuing commander responded, frantic, yelling at the Rix who couldn't be Lyle. Not-Lyle smiled under the mask as an orange flare illuminated his face. Still not Lyle. And then he blinked, that unfocused lazy blink of his onyx snake eyes, and just like that, it was Lyle.
The orange flare faded, the shadows still playing across his beautiful, cruel face. The pursuing commander fell silent. Another heartbeat, and the screen went off.
“Did he nuke him?” Cricket asked hoarsely.
“He nuked the entire fleet, the shuttle and three interceptors. It’s in the records. He never got caught, and they never found that freighter he stole.”
“My God, Paloma. Those people. They died in front of our eyes.”
“It happened a long time ago.”
“They’re still dead.”
“I’m sorry, Cricket.”
So was she. Sorry that Lyle turned out to be a pirate. Sorry that he came into her life. Sorry the future looked so bleak. “What are we going to do?”
Paloma turned off the projector. “I know what I am going to do. Little choice that he left me.”
Cricket turned to Paloma who fiddled with her equipment. “Do you truly want to leave Meeus so bad that you’re willing to side with this kind of an alien?” She gestured to where the video had just been.
Paloma straightened up, all fidgeting gone. “Yes, Cricket. Some things are worth that much. On Meeus, there’s no path forward for me that I want to take. There’s no life for me and Ren. Here, we can’t be together. He will never get a legal status, forever relegated to living in the shadows, leading a marginally okay life for as long as Zaron keeps him sheltered and employed. And when Zaron’s gone? He’ll be forced to leave or go into illegal business to feed himself and Rosamma.” She sniffed. “And then there’s Rosamma. You’ve seen her, what do you think she will do if they lose Zaron’s protection? Where would she go? How would she survive, not to mention they’re these cursed twins who can’t get separated. It isn’t life!” Paloma’s voice rose to a painful pitch.
Cricket dropped her head into her hands.
“I’m sorry.” Paloma sniffed again. “It’s our chance, and I’m all in. I’m not asking you to understand, even though that would be grand.”
Cricket moved her head from side to side inside the grip of her hands. The terrible thing was, she understood. The pain of yearning, the attraction so powerful she drowned in it.
