How Riya Ended Up Here...
Chapter Six: Turn-around
Riya waited anxiously just outside the docking bay. It was getting dark, and he could see the transport trucks driving up from the city, kicking up dust on the provincial, old-fashioned dirt road up to the base. His contact Jonah was on one of those trucks, and Riya wanted to make sure he knew he needed to speak with him in private before he disappeared into the mess hall or back into his truck. He just wished the trucks would drive a little faster; he felt horribly exposed outside like this, and it seemed like he'd been out here forever, though a glance at his watch told him it'd only been an hour.
Finally the trucks pulled up, three of them, all large and army-regulation and brimming with boxes. There were three people to a truck, two in the cab and one in the back, and as soon as the vehicles ground to a stop with their rear ends to the docking bay, the unloading began: immediate and efficient, that was army supply for you. The problem was, Riya didn't see Jonah anywhere among the workers swarming the backs of the trucks.
Clinging to the shadows of the wall, Riya crept closer, trying to get a good look at everyone. Most of them were in the back of the trucks now, tossing boxes to each other to be set deep inside, watched by the supply overseer, a grouchy older man who Riya was thankful he didn't have to ever deal with. The workers' faces were lit by the halogen lights inside the bay, and easily identifiable as they turned to the truck and away again. And none of them were Jonah.
Finally, as a strong-looking woman jumped down from the bay and strode to the driver's seat of the nearest truck, Riya screwed up his bravery and approached her shyly. "Um, excuse me, ma'am...."
"Yes?" She turned, eying him with a little annoyance that he was interrupting her task, whatever it was.
"Is there a hauler named Jonah with this supply, ma'am?" he asked, trying not to sound overly concerned.
"You mean that Mid-Eastern prick?" she snorted. "He got sacked months ago. Caught stealing valuables from the trucks. Arrested by the UNIS guards and everything."
Riya felt suddenly cold.
The hard-faced woman eyed him again. "Why? Friend of yours?"
"No-- no..." He shook his head numbly. "He was just supposed to give me news about my-- my sister. She's working some waitress job in the Mid-East Coalition, and he said he'd try to contact her for me...."
He must have looked convincingly upset, for the woman's expression softened a bit and she patted his shoulder a few times. "Sorry things worked out bad for ya," she said awkwardly, but sympathetically.
"It's all right," he mumbled backing a couple steps away. "Thank you."
It was all he could do to keep from bolting back to his room. Instead, he walked, slowly and sedately, even dragging his feet a bit, while his heart raced and his mind whirled.
Jonah, arrested and disappeared-- had he really been stealing? Or had the UNIS discovered his second job? If it was the latter....
Riya didn't even want to think about it.
*****
Of course, Riya didn't have a choice about thinking about Jonah's, and possibly his own, fate. It kept intruding on his thoughts, no matter what else he was doing. It made him tense, even more paranoid than before, and unusually silent. Mullen even seemed worried about him when he stopped making sly, double-edged comments during lessons, and when he stopped whistling while he cleaned and serviced things. The Favorites didn't seem to mind, though-- silent was their favorite way to have him, and his skittishness didn't bother them in the slightest. Franco, one of Mister Military's hanger-ons, had even taken to jumping out at him at random intervals from behind closed doors or around corners. Riya had been hard-pressed not to hurt him, and had taken to extending his mental senses to search ahead of him for other minds lying in wait.
A little less than a week before the Favorites' unofficial scheduled departure time-- no one actually told them, but somehow they all found out-- Mullen jerked his head at Riya as the Cadets were busy inspecting "demon" tracks through special goggles. Riya set down the field suit he had been repairing-- Miss Bitch Adara had somehow managed to nearly tear the shoulder plating out of the canvas, Riya suspected on purpose-- and went to him.
::You do realize, Riya, that you're going with the Cadets Aven-side, don't you?::
All Riya could do was stare for a long moment before he pulled up a thought coherent enough to send. ::I-- I am, sir?::
::Yes.::
Mullen didn't elaborate, so Riya had to speak, himself. ::WHY?:: he managed, still shocked. ::I-- don't do anything. I don't fight, I don't track. I clean things. I fix things.::
::And they won't need anyone to do that while they're Aven-side?::
He sounded as if it perfectly reasonable, but it didn't make sense to Riya. Surely there would be other people on the other side. Surely there was no reason to send extra baggage-- unliked extra baggage, in fact, if you took into account the Cadets themselves; useless extra baggage, if you took into account his utter detestation for anything resembling battle. The Cadets hated him, the dragons would probably hate him, and he didn't even know if these demons were as bad as everyone seemed to think. It was pointless for him to go, really. A waste for UNIS. And stupid, too, if one knew about Riya's real loyalties.
In fact, he was about to bring several of those very things to Mullen's attention, tell him he was being ridiculous, when it suddenly hit him that not only was this what he'd wanted all along, it was the answer to every trouble he might be in. Surely UNIS couldn't catch him on Avengaea, if he needed to run. This was a whole new planet that wasn't under the thumb of Earth's military. He could hide however long he needed to. That wouldn't help Mars, or his dad, but-- maybe he could even persuade a few dragons to speak out against fighting the humans on Mars. That was an idea he'd had bouncing around in his head, anyway, as one unlikely to work-- but now, there was a chance.
And... he would get to meet more dragons. That was worth almost anything.
He shut his mouth, now realizing that it had fallen open, and blinked at Mullen, who was grinning again. ::Thank you, sir,:: he said, with sincere gratitude. It was a dream come true.
::Just do your work, Riya.::
::Yessir, of course.:: He gave a quick, faintly embarrassed, wholeheartedly pleased bow to the captain then, at his nod, bounded back to his work with a much-lightened heart, and his head full of images of dragons.