Rainbow half expected what Wind Rider had arranged. Only half.
With no jet to call her own, and the fake fight with Pug making everyone think the two of them should be kept apart, Wind Rider arranged for her to stay in the hangar with the Cessna and his Mirage.
She was mostly surprised that he didn’t have a bed somewhere. Apparently the transition to Katange airport had been hard on everyone, even the UTA. If Wind Rider had to sleep on the floor like the indentured pilots, the foot soldiers must have been even worse off.
Not that Rainbow was feeling sorry for them, of course. Between animal attacks and magic going around, they were probably becoming pretty on-edge. Maybe the diamond mines drying up was also affecting their pay. Maybe for the same reason, the UTA was planning to move out of Katange, too.
But for the present moment, Rainbow had other things to worry about. Namely, being alone with Wind Rider. Needless to say, she didn’t trust him in the slightest.
The first few hours passed without even any conversation. They both sat near their respective planes. Wind Rider was reading some kind of novel. He was patient, she had to give him that. Rainbow still bore no illusions that they were staying in the same hangar out of the goodwill of his heart.
Her thoughts turned inward, as she had nothing else to keep her occupied. Unless she’d thoroughly missed her guess, she could trust Soarin’. He’d proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt. She hoped, and decided to assume, that he’d told Pug that the fight hadn’t been real. Whether Soarin’ trusted Pug enough to tell him about the smuggled AK-47’s was another matter.
Reviewing everyone else, Rainbow was on the fence about Pantera. In another few missions, Pantera would be nearly at one hundred and have nothing to gain by turning in potential deserters. But, faced with the prospect of getting on the C-130 and leaving once complete, would she help escape? Or was she of the crowd that believed the ride out was actually a ride to her death? Would that actually make her more likely to help? Again, Rainbow deferred to Soarin’, as he shared the hangar with Pantera.
The others were still question marks. Rainbow felt that Kiel would be most likely to act passively, not hurting, not helping. She most wanted to trust Striker. He’d been nothing but friendly. Lightning...Rainbow wanted to trust her. Wanted to.
Wind Rider got up and stretched. “It’s dinner time,” he called.
He did not go outside to wherever the food was being served, however. Instead, he produced a couple of packages wrapped in brown plastic. They were labeled as Meals Ready to Eat.
Rainbow had heard of MREs. She’d heard mixed things. But it was also likely to be the most filling thing she’d eaten since arriving in Africa. No wonder Wind Rider seemed healthy by comparison to any of the others, even the UTA.
Still, she wanted to refuse. No one else got the opportunity to eat this. Wind Rider thought he was doing her a favor. Plus, according to the packaging, the MREs were two years old.
However, denying herself glorious calories would not help the others. Rainbow accepted the package without comment.
“Do you like that kind?” he asked. “I’ll swap you, if you want.”
Rainbow looked at hers: vegetable lasagna. She looked at his: buffalo chicken. “I’m good,” she said, finally deciding to draw a line.
He shrugged. Rainbow walked away, back to sit against the Cessna’s landing gear. It took a little while to figure out how to eat the MRE.
She surreptitiously glanced up occasionally. Wind Rider was watching her.
In the morning, there were no newly-grown plants for breakfast. Rainbow wasn’t sure if that was because she’d eaten well, or if they wouldn’t grow for Wind Rider. She hoped the others were being fed.
Someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” Wind Rider called.
A soldier stuck his head in. “Sir, we’ve got a mission.”
Wind Rider stood up and stretched. “All right. Come on, Rainbow.”
Surprised, Rainbow got up and followed him. She shouldn’t have been too surprised, though. Outside, he turned her over to the custody of the soldier and walked away to the command center, or what passed for one at Katange.
In a few minutes, Wind Rider was back. Across the way, Rainbow saw the hangar doors opening as the others got the news.
He glanced at his own Mirage as the hangar opened and then back at her. “Now what are we going to do with you?”
A sudden inspiration seized her. “I can fly in someone’s back seat.”
Wind Rider studied her. “A wizzo, huh? Well, it’s better than doing nothing.”
Rainbow grabbed her helmet from the hangar and hustled over to the others. Pantera’s Alpha Jet and Striker’s L-39 were the only ones that had a back seat. She debated, but headed for Striker.
He was surprised to see her, but rolled with it as she quickly explained. “Sure, get in. An extra set of eyes never hurt.”
Rainbow climbed in. The L-39 was apparently still set up as a trainer and had a second set of stick and throttle in the back seat. She did her best not to touch them, but the feeling of being out of control came up suddenly. It was the first time she’d been in a plane in years where she wasn’t the pilot.
She made herself calm down. Striker had more missions than she did. Back seat flying was unbecoming.
Besides, she had to focus on figuring out where Striker stood.
Rainbow pondered how to do this as they taxied for takeoff. Ultimately, however, it was Striker that broke the silence. Over the intercom, he asked, “How are you over in the other hangar?”
Was he asking about her wellbeing? Was it something more? Did he care about her enough to be concerned with her staying with Wind Rider? Or could he be suspicious about her own motivations?
“He’s a creep,” said Rainbow. “He tried to use food to buy me off."
“Did you have anything grow overnight?”
“No. Did you?”
“Some kind of melon. It was tasty, though the soldiers came and took most of them.”
“Interesting that I didn’t get anything,” said Rainbow. “Maybe it didn’t want to grow for Wind Rider.”
Striker was silent for a moment. “It’s so strange, the way everything’s been happening.”
“It’s magic.”
He was silent for longer this time. “What do you know about that?”
She almost told him right then and there. She wanted to reminisce about her friends and the special bond they shared. But could he use that information for personal gain? What if he told the UTA?
“It just seemed obvious to me,” she said. “And better yet, I think it’s on our side.”
“Yeah,” Striker agreed after some contemplation. “I think it is.”