While I hadn’t actually seen them, I was almost certain that the Red Dragons were following Faye. That meant that I’d be leaving soon, one way or the other. And just in case I was fortunate enough to once again avoid the way that entailed a stop in the cold vacuum of space, I went to the workshop to clean my Jericho 941. I had good reason to think I’d be using it.
Soon enough, I saw Faye’s reflection in my shot glass. I gave her a chance to say what she’d come here to say, but she soon started to turn away. Since I already knew that we didn’t have time for any subtlety in this conversation, I decided to cut right to the chase. “Did you meet Julia?”
Unfortunately, it appeared that Faye might have needed that subtlety, because on her face grew the most intense look of shock and disbelief I’ve ever seen on a human being, all the more amazing since Faye Valentine’s skills at hiding her true feelings about anything were unparalleled in my experience. “You— She— How the hell are you doing that?!”
An intriguing response, but any chance to probe its meaning was cut off by the sudden jostling of the Bebop as the first attacks from the Red Dragons hit Jet’s converted fishing ship. “I don’t have time for this, Faye. Did you see her?”
“I… I…” Faye was obviously still trying to process the fact that I’d known she’d meet Julia, but this was ridiculous. Something had happened when she met Julia, but whether it had happened the last time or had changed as a result of the different conversation we’d had would have to wait until later—the Red Dragons’ attack had only just started, and I couldn’t afford to let it continue.
I pushed my way past Faye as another impact caused the ship to rock. “Never mind! You can tell me if we survive this.” I rushed to the Bebop’s hanger to prep the Swordfish for what I already knew would be the most difficult and dangerous dogfight I’d ever fought.
I was already climbing into the cockpit when Faye caught up with me. “Wait!”
“I don’t really have that luxury at the moment, Faye.”
“Julia… she said she’d be waiting there. She said you’d know what she meant. Spike, somebody’s trying to kill her.”
Another explosion rocked the ship. “I know, but right now, I think I need to concentrate on the people trying to kill me,” I remarked. It might have been nice to get more information, but there was literally no time—the longer I stayed inside the Bebop’s hangar, the more chances the Red Dragons had to blow us to pieces. “Thanks, Faye. Jet, I’m ready to go!”
I’d like to say that I had a clear advantage because of the dream, but dogfights aren’t like conversations. You can change a lot of things about conversations, but it’s surprising how often you get the same results. Not so in a dogfight, where Newtonian physics and chaos theory collided head on. Here, turning left instead of right put you in a situation that was so different that any foreknowledge got thrown out of the window. Not that I would have used it, mind you. I didn’t have the luxury to think about memories and visions. These guys were from the Red Dragon syndicate, probably some of their best pilots: if I allowed my concentration to drift away from anything but the here and now, they’d turn the Swordfish II into Swiss cheese.
That whole “in the moment” thing is probably why I can’t recall any details about the dogfight. I remember having way too many close calls. I remember Faye jumping into the fray even though the Red Tail was hardly in any condition to fight. Still, I think she did well—took out one of the Red Dragons herself… maybe. I don’t really remember that too clearly. Staying alive was more important than taking note of details like that. I remember that at the end, they were all space debris, and we were all alive.
And I remember what Jet said: “Spike, can you still fly? Don’t worry about us. Just go. If you can’t leave the past behind, then face it head on.” It was nowhere near as inspiring as “Find what you lost and get it back,” but then, I hadn’t actually mentioned losing anything when he was indulging in literary criticism fifteen minutes earlier. The end was the same, though: “Go!”
In all honesty, I would probably have left anyway.
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(Posted Fri, 11 Jan 2008 06:03)
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