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Chapter 21: Crystellia’s Mystery
Shortly after the new educational cycle cranked into gear, a new and different opportunity arose. Crystellia came to Academia. The unannounced visit took Bjorn entirely by surprise, yet when she sneaked up from the rear, he smelled her musk. Or maybe it was how she tapped him in that private place where no other citizen ever touched him.
"Stop doing that," he said, hurrying forward before turning.
“What,” she said, winking her spiracle. “Are you not glad to see me?”
“You think!” he said, hands out and palms up. Then he grinned, antennae fluttering. “I thought Koyals weren’t on good terms with Ulou.”
“Things change fast in politics.” She fluttered up then back down, her contagious smile lighting his heart.
“It’s well-nigh time.” Like tadpoles in a cloudy mist, unspoken thoughts darted through his mind. He had so much to say but no way to rightly order the approach. C
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Airbornes: Bjorn and the Floating Nest Chapter 22: A Spy in The Midst
As soon as Bjorn accepted the concept of Suppressed Infectious Memory, his education expanded in leaps and bounds. The more information he took in, the more his dreams opened up. By the close of the third education cycle, he had written notations, formulas, and calculations directly out of memory. His mind was a living document of his mother’s memoirs.Then active, officious interference began, and Kurg discovered a spy lurked among them. He told Bjorn as they hovered in a secluded branch near the of the same cluster of cattails where Bjorn and Crystellia had meet on that day she shared her mystery and her mission. The wind whisked moisture through the airways, and odor of spores was stronger than ever. The end looked nearer than ever.“Who is it?” Bjorn said, his face twisting into a near human sneer. “I’ll slice him into shreds quicker than sunlight sucks moisture.”“No, no,” Kurg said, his flaps arching. “
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Less than an hour after the spy was out of the way, a small but fast double topsail schooner, piloted by none other than Nalura, the OOD officer from Amera, docked on the underside of Mother Tree at the same place Bjorn and Aunt Sumia had sun-dipped for their first private meeting. Kurg, Crystellia, and Bjorn boarded. Everyone wore HB protection, but Bjorn was still glad the connection took place beneath Mother Tree. All above, rain fell in endless torrents. Sinkholes, rivers, and currents of mud ripped through Mother Tree’s root system. Only the mentally blind Cloud officials could honestly deny the reality of Clouds cry.A collection of climbing gear topped a heap near the starboard rails of the schooner and twin retractable cable rigs extended over the hull. A sense of urgency moved through the crew and the pilot. Yet things came to a bit of a halt when Bjorn saw Crystellia engage in an unexpected, for him, reunion.“Mother,” she shouted e
Airbornes: Bjorn and the Floating Nest Chapter 24: Mother Below
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Airbornes: Bjorn and the Floating Nest Chapter 25: Walkers
Bjorn’s party tracked upriver, above the treetops, while seeking the source of the river. The quakes and fire no longer advanced, and even the rain drifted away and toward the southwest slopes. No more worms appeared, sick or healthy. As the rise in terrain reached higher and further northward, they passed above groups of Walkers and newly established shelters on the hillsides and in other areas that remained above the core of damage and flooded zones. In the highest ranges of flatland, the Walkers lived on productive farms.“Someone warned them,” Crystellia said. “These shelters and farms are old and established. The beings down there aren’t refugees; they’re immigrant evacuees."Bjorn barely absorbed her words. He was putting things together in his mind, remembering events at old Perd Van’s worm farm and in the marsh near the Kabutar ship docks, including the yellow ooze beneath Mother Tree during the sun-dipping with aunt Su
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Cupun’s friendship with Jamison felt second nature, so much so that Cupun wondered why his father still sometimes spoke of hanumans as abominations. Maybe old expressions die slowly, he thought, or perhaps such words merely linger in the mind long after the history behind the link is no longer relevant. Whatever the cause, Nukilik never used the word in the presence of Jamison. His sister’s husband was family and friend.While Adlartok trained Kallik in the methods of various weapons, Cupun and Jamison traveled beneath a prickly canopy of musty-smelling grayish-green rope-foliage growing on trees taller and thicker than any Cupun had encountered. Three grown men with arms extended and hands touching could not wrap the circumference of the sharp-barked hardwood trunks.During the journey from Jamison’s homeland, many new races had joined their group, all working to help one another. But Cupun and Jamison made too great a team to split apart. So from hu
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Bjorn yelped as a three-prong grappling hook slammed across the deck, snagged on a bulwark, snapped tight, and pinned one crew member to a guardrail. A second barb scrapped Kurg’s pelvic fin before bouncing off the deck and whizzing past the Rand Solar balloon system. A musky blood scent splattered through the air. “They want us alive,” Nalura shouted while rushing to the pinned sailor and slicing the anchor rope with a single swipe of her caudal fin. “Fight to kill.” More hooks came down, and an immense shadow crossed over the stern and kept growing. An imperial battleship was upon them. Two imperial guards armed with tasers landed on the shrouds of the main topmast and slid down on the mainstay. More clambered over the battleship’s railing. “Mom,” screamed Crystellia while ducking beneath one rope that had wrapped around the mizzenmast. The sails tightened, billowed, then compressed again, and the schooner lurched hard to port with Nalura body-hugging the n
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Hours after the battle in the sky, Bjorn and the party arrived at a mountain waterfall, boarding a Walker’s village near a vast stretch of flatland. Greenery blended into the environment and covered the cascade’s rocky structure as though nurtured and shaped by an experienced Arborist. The scent of fresh blooms whiffed up and into the airship.“Here,” Bjorn said. “We drop anchor here.” A nearby field stretched wide with rolls of wood containers similar to those used when shipping worms to Cloud. Although occupied by living annelids, no yellowish slime lingered on or near the crates. For Bjorn, more of the pieces came together.They readied the climbing gear, and Bjorn and Nalura harnessed up.“I’m going too,” Crystellia said.“Can’t do,” Nalura said. “Edoul is too old, and Bjorn is necessary. We only have two yokes. Although professionally train, you, my impulsive daughter, lack
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The Walkers showed no fear of the massive beast, so Bjorn and Nalura stood their ground, staying still, quiet and hopeful. Perhaps someone had restraints on this ancient junkyard guard-grizzly. In the distance, the waterfall roared. From far, far away, the surface world rumbled. Time ran thin.An older female Walker came near. She carried a staff and a mouthful of hand-sharpened teeth. Seductively beautiful in a grimy sort of way, she reminded Bjorn of some of the subterranean fish species common on Cloud.“Why are you here?” she said.Nalura nodded to Bjorn, urging him to respond.“We came seeking my mother,” he said. “She is an Airborne, as are we.”The old Walker grinned, her ears twitching as though in joy. “Then come, young Bjorn. Sira has waited long to see you.”—As soon as Bjorn and Nalura followed the Walker into the hedges near the waterfall, Crystellia stripped a harnes
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