Wyverns of Mass Destruction

Margot I, part 3

"Margot!" called a sharp voice, one she recognized from the village.

Michael and Dr. Harper has already climbed into a waiting Hummer. Steel had vanished, likely with Taiv. Margot turned to see Al Smith, the grocer, stepping off an ATV. Three young men were accompanying him.

She'd thought about dating Al when she'd first returned. Near the end of the day, you could see his smile wearing thin, and she still warmed to contrary men. Too contrary. Shivers crept down her spine as he approached. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here for the crate!" Al shouted.

The crate? Who'd told them about her task? She knew the faces of the boys sitting with him, but not the names. One had been arrested by the seccies three weeks ago over a drunken brawl. The council had mediated an agreement of community service, but these boys looked too proud to be here on an altruistic errand.

No one should look that eager about a crate of school supplies.

They're robbing me, her city-honed instincts said. She remembered the handgun resting on her hip, and was relived to see Al had brought a shotgun. There were no reasons to resist. They'd get what they wanted.

"What's going on?" Borghild Asen shouted, sticking her enormous blond head out the window of the Hummer. Dr. Harper's bodyguard stood six-foot-four and could lift a snowmobile with one hand. Over drinks in the Dogshead, Dr. Zhao, one of Dr. Harper's postdocs had said he suspected Borghild was another kind of experiment.

"Nothing!" Margot shouted. She wished Bashaw was there, but knew that wouldn't change anything.

"For fuck's sake." Al walked towards her. Margot instinctively backed towards the shelter of the plane. "Stop trembling. Your father authorized me to bring up this shipment." He extracted a piece of paper from inside his parka and held it up with thick, gloved fingers.

The note was in her father's jittery script, the paper torn from the pad Mary kept in the kitchen. 'Margot sura Bashaw,' it read, using her Wing title, 'I have decided that distributing the supplies from our house would take too long. Al and his volunteers will take them to the school. William Suvlu.' Formal and to the point. Just like him.

No. She had to stop thinking of him as the small mountain she'd known from childhood. Maybe he had changed his mind about trusting Margot with the supplies. Or maybe someone stronger had made him change it.

"You see?" Al said. She nodded, and headed for the Hummer as quickly as she dared. Two young men hoisted the crate onto the ATV, staggering under the weight. What's really in there? she wanted to yell. Mary might have known a safe way to ask, but Mary had been a teacher before Synthos had re-opened the fortress, and had known these men since infancy.

"Margot!" Dr. Harper shouted as Al gunned the ATV's engine. "Come. I want you to see this."

Margot sighed. The arch commander had assigned her shower-cleaning duty in return for her day off. But Dr. Harper was the head administrator, the ultimate power within the missile-ringed borders of Wyvernhall. Even the arch commander had to bow to her orders. "Coming, ma'am."

She slid into the back of the Hummer, next to Michael, relaxing as the warm air washed over her. The seats were torn, muddy, and covered with straw. But here, Margot knew she was safe. Right ahead of her, Borghild's wide, armored shoulders spilled out the sides of her seat, while the petit Dr. Harper had vanished into hers. No one at HQ could afford to mess with them.

"Is he in the lab?" Dr. Harper asked her bodyguard.

"He is." Borghild chomped her wad of gum. "Won't be for long."