Page 109 of Return of the Nine

Once she was in place, she made a low chuffing noise and Bert took off. It was time to get the only freedom she had anymore; it was time to ride the wind.

Chapter Two

Her eyes teared until she pulled her goggles into place. Bert was in fine form today. He wheeled, darted and spiralled around the cliffs of her home until she could do nothing but hang on for dear life.

Once he had gotten used to her weight, Bert began to climb.

She clung to him as he headed straight for the clouds. As the roaring in her ears eased, she heard a strange noise. There were heavy wing beats nearby, and they didn’t belong to a roc.

She turned her head and had to blink several times behind her goggles. There was a flying man gaining on them, and he bore a startling resemblance to the Nine representative who had been at her door.

She rocked back in her stirrups, and Bert slowed his forward progress. She shouted. “What the hell?”

“I would like to speak with you, and I am willing to do whatever it takes to make that meeting happen.” He flew next to them and smiled brightly at her as he kept pace.

“You have wings.”

“I do. Now, shall we continue this conversation on the ground or do you want me to continue to pace you?”

She was so startled, she gave Bert the signal to land. He spiralled down, and she dismounted on a rocky strut jutting from the canyon below. Bert shuffled and took off, leaving her alone with the winged rep.

Ula put her hands on her leather-clad hips and looked up at the lean man looking down at her. “So? Talk.”

“I would like you to come to the mother ship and take a look at our research and development department. I believe thatyou have skills that we can learn from and a way of viewing technology that is fresh and new.”

She looked him up and down, and her mind tried to work out the means by which he flew. “Why does the Nine want to speak to me?”

“Because of the repurposing of the Tokkel torture straps. If you could teach our men to think a little more outside the standard, we might just be able to have a higher crash-survival rate.” He blinked, and he exhibited a second set of eyelids. Under the standard lids, he had a clear inner lid that was probably designed for flight.

Ula throttled down her curiosity. It tended to get her into trouble. She did not want to be curious about this man. Nor did she want to wonder how someone who looked so dense could fly.

“I don’t want to go to the mother ship.”

“Please. We have many engineers and researchers who have not yet been able to learn your language. The translators on the ship would enable them to learn how to change the way they look at items in order to think outside common parameters.”

She gave him a sceptical look. “You have to be kidding me.”

“No. From what your friends and the administrators of the colony have told us, you have a knack for creating anything they need out of scavenged tech. We would like you to share that knack with us so that we can evolve past our narrow views of our own technology. We are in danger of becoming locked in a ship that needs to evolve, and we are unable to help her. Our minds do not work that way.”

Ula paced to the edge of the stone and looked down into the canyon. She thought about the concept of trying to teach others how her mind worked, and it was amusing and intriguing. No one had wanted to learn from her before. They simply wanted the results of her work, not the process that had created it.

“What do I get out of it if I agree to head up to the mothership?” She turned to face him and his wings were extended, sheltering her from the wind. It was sweet.

“I am authorized to offer you patents on anything you create, followed by bonuses for their practicality. You will have full run of our research and development department and all supplies and tech they can provide.”

Ula felt a stirring of excitement. “Wait, you mean I will be able to see lists of tech and requisition what I want to play with? No one will complain?”

“They will be honoured to assist your efforts. I have not heard one person complain about the end result of your work.”

She laughed. “That is politic. They complain because I won’t do more. I have created self-thawing sidewalks, improved healing facilities with upgraded machines, and they still want more. I refuse to work in weaponry. Is that clear?”

He nodded. “It is clear. No weapons. So, you will come?”

She let out a shrill whistle, and Bert returned to her side. She clucked to him as she hauled herself into the saddle. “I will come with you for no more than seven days. At the end of that time, I wish to be returned here to my home. Is that clear?”

Deniir nodded. “Yes, of course. I can have it drawn up in a contract if you like.”

“It probably wouldn’t hurt. I will meet you back at my home, and we can hash out the details.”

---