Earth and Air Read online

  JANET EDWARDS

  EARTH AND AIR

  An Earth Girl Novella

  Copyright

  Copyright © Janet Edwards 2018

  https://janetedwards.com/

  Janet Edwards asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. .

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or localities is purely coincidental. .

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of Janet Edwards except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by The Cover Collection

  http://www.thecovercollection.com/

  Cover Design © Janet Edwards 2018

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Message from Janet Edwards

  Books by Janet Edwards

  About the Author

  A Glimpse of Frontier: An Earth Girl Novella

  Chapter One

  Our history teacher, Crozier, led us through the main hall of Earth Europe Transit 3. The far end, with all the inter-continental portals, was crowded with people and luggage. I was captain of the school history club, so Crozier had given me the job of staying at the end of the straggling line of club members, and making sure that nobody, especially Radley, got lost or left behind.

  As we joined the queue for an inter-continental portal that was already locked open to America, a nearby woman turned to stare at us. Her oddly-styled, shiny clothes made it clear she was an off-worlder visiting Earth. She was probably surprised by the way we were all carrying ordinary bags instead of having fancy hover luggage chase after us, and the fact that we only had one teacher with us.

  At any moment, she’d work out that meant we were reject kids being raised as wards of Hospital Earth. When she did, I knew her expression would change to one of either disgust or pity, because that was the way off-worlders always looked at kids like us.

  I never knew which of those expressions I hated most, the sneering disgust or the sanctimonious pity. I hastily faced away from the woman so I wouldn’t see either.

  “Oh chaos,” said Radley. “I’ve just realized I’ve forgotten to pack something.”

  We all laughed, except for Crozier, who shook his head in despair. Every school class and club seemed to have one member who could be guaranteed to get lost or forget to pack something crucial on every school trip. In the case of the history club, it was Radley.

  “Whatever you’ve forgotten, you’ll have to manage without it, Radley,” said Crozier. “I’ve delayed at least four school trips while you portalled back to your Next Step to get vital belongings, and I told you last time that I wouldn’t keep everyone waiting again.”

  Radley sighed. “I know.”

  “What have you forgotten this time?” asked his boyfriend, Milo.

  “I’d rather not say in public,” said Radley.

  There was another burst of laughter. The queue had been moving rapidly forward, so now it was our turn to go through the inter-continental portal. Crozier threw a single glance over his shoulder to check everyone was ready before leading us through.

  I dutifully counted the other thirty club members as they stepped into the glowing portal, keeping a particularly close eye on Radley, and then followed them myself. I arrived in a hall almost identical to the one I’d left, with only the overhead signs to tell me that I was no longer in Europe Transit 3, but America Transit 4.

  Everyone moved clear of the red floor area that marked the arrival zone, and Crozier did a quick head count before leading us on towards the local portals. As we neared them, I heard an urgent chiming sound. Crozier paused, took out his lookup, tapped it, and frowned.

  “I’ve got a message from the Chief Administrator of the New York Fringe Dig Site. She isn’t ready for us to portal into the dig site reception area yet.”

  There was a chorus of groans at the delay. “What’s the problem?” asked Owen.

  Crozier shrugged. “Apparently the reception area is already overcrowded with school parties waiting to be processed. The Chief Administrator wants us to wait here until she messages us again.”

  “Does that mean I can go back to my Next Step and get the things I’ve forgotten?” asked Radley hopefully.

  “Absolutely not. It won’t be long before we get another message telling us to portal to New York Fringe.” Crozier led us over to a quiet spot near the wall.

  “I’d only be gone for five minutes,” Radley persisted.

  Crozier gave him the distinctive look of a teacher who is losing patience. “Five minutes? To portal back to Europe Transit 3, on to your Next Step, repack your bag, and come back again? It would take you at least half an hour.”

  “Maybe ten minutes,” said Radley.

  “At least half an hour,” repeated Crozier bitterly. “I know that from the previous times we’ve had to stand around waiting for you. And that’s the optimistic estimate which assumes you don’t manage to get lost or arrested again.”

  The rest of us stared at Radley, totally grazzed by the mention of him getting arrested. Radley cringed in embarrassment. He was a tall, thin boy, with unusually fair skin, red hair, and freckles. People must be able to see his blush from the next continent.

  “On the spring break trip, you got left behind when we portalled into New Tokyo Fringe Dig Site,” said Milo. “Was that when you got arrested by the police?”

  Radley did his fiery blush routine again. “Yes.”

  “What the chaos happened?” asked Milo.

  Radley didn’t seem to want to answer that question, so Crozier started talking again. “Fringe dig sites are far less dangerous than the main dig sites where the professional archaeologists work, but most of them are still rated as hazard zones, so their portals are restricted destinations. Since school party lists often have last-minute changes, only the genetic codes of party leaders are pre-authorized for access.”

  The more experienced club members knew all about the authorization issue. We worked out how Radley had managed to get himself arrested by the police, and began laughing, but the newer members still looked puzzled.

  “This is why I always have to go first when we portal into the reception area of a dig site,” said Crozier. “I set the portal for multiple travellers, so the rest of you can follow me through, but Radley stopped to repack his bag when we portalled to New Tokyo Fringe Dig Site. When the portal hit the time limit with no new travellers, it shut down, so Radley kept trying to dial the destination himself and follow us. He hadn’t been to New Tokyo before, so he wasn’t authorized for access, and Portal Network Administration routinely reports multiple failed attempts to portal to a restricted destination to the police for investigation.”

  Milo waved his hands in despair. “So the police came and arrested you
, Radley? Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

  “Because it was embarrassing and I knew you’d make a fuss.”

  “I only make a fuss about things because I care about you,” said Milo. “What I don’t understand is that the portal must have given you a warning the first time you were refused access to New Tokyo Fringe. Why did you try again?”

  “I don’t know. I was panicking and not thinking clearly.”

  Milo shook his head. “You aren’t safe out on your own, are you?”

  Radley groaned. “That’s what the police said. That’s what Crozier said. That’s the more polite version of what the science teacher said when she came to collect me.”

  I grimaced at his mention of the science teacher. With so many of us abandoned kids to care for, Hospital Earth had huge problems finding enough staff in all areas of childcare. Schools had no choice but to accept more or less any teacher they could get, so the standard varied immensely.

  In my opinion, our school’s best teacher was Crozier, and the worst by far was the science teacher. She was the sort of person who shouldn’t be allowed to teach rocks, let alone kids, and had a long-standing grudge against me for standing up against her bullying. I’d given up studying science as soon as I could to escape her, but she still did everything she could to make my life a misery.

  “How did the science teacher get involved in a history club trip?” I asked.

  “The police insisted on a teacher going to collect Radley from them,” said Crozier. “I couldn’t leave the rest of the club alone on New Tokyo Fringe Dig Site, and I didn’t want to drag everyone along while I collected Radley, so I asked the teacher on emergency cover duty to help.”

  Radley shuddered. “The science teacher was furious about me messing up her plans for the day, and kept ranting on about me being stupid.”

  I had vivid memories of the science teacher ranting at me, and knew she’d have used far nastier insults than just stupid, so I gave Radley a sympathetic look.

  “You aren’t stupid, Radley,” said Milo indignantly. “You may make the occasional mistake, but we all have our nardle moments.”

  Crozier started scanning something on his lookup. Almost all of the club members ranged in age from 14 to 17, so we automatically split up into four different groups to chat to each other. Since Hospital Earth didn’t bother with our individual dates of birth, both our age and school year changed each Year Day, making our whole social life strictly age based.

  When I joined the other Seventeens, they all started eagerly talking about excavation work. I stood listening to the conversation in total silence, because joining in would have been awkward. This would be the seventh year that I’d spent my summer with the school history club, but it was going to be very different to all the previous ones, with me focusing on having flying lessons rather than doing excavation work. The New York Dig Site professional pilot was doing a full aerial survey of New York Fringe, and had promised to help me get my own private pilot’s licence this summer.

  Crozier knew all about my plans to become a qualified pilot, but I’d been delaying telling the rest of the history club. It was going to be a difficult conversation for multiple reasons, and I definitely didn’t want to have it in the middle of America Transit 4.

  Milo was talking about his role as team 2 tag leader for the club now. That was an especially painful subject in the circumstances, so I furtively backed away from the other Seventeens, and turned to look at the rest of the history club members. I saw that our move into groups had left two oddities standing alone. One was a stocky boy of 13, with such ragged brown hair that I guessed he’d been saving credits by trimming it himself. The other was a startlingly small girl of 12, staggering under the weight of an ageing bag that looked bigger than she was.

  These two had both passed their gold safety award, entitling them to move from the junior history club to the senior history club, only just in time to come along on this trip. Crozier had introduced them to the rest of us at the last planning meeting, so I knew the boy was called Alund and the girl was called Wren, but I hadn’t had the chance to talk to either of them yet.

  Alund hesitated before taking a step towards Wren. She glared at him, dumped her bag on the floor, and sat on it with her arms folded in a forbidding manner. Alund backed away again.

  Something about Wren was making me feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure why. I was never good at working out emotional stuff, so I avoided the problem by taking out my lookup and checking my mail.

  The first message was from my best friend, Issette, babbling her good wishes for the summer, and telling me all about the new song by her favourite singer, Zen Arrath.

  The second message was from another friend, the legendarily lazy Keon Tanaka. He was complaining bitterly that the Principal of our Next Step residence had told him he had to get up in time for breakfast during the summer break or he wouldn’t get any other meals that day. I couldn’t help laughing at his disgusted face. The Principal found Keon’s idleness deeply frustrating. She was obviously making a last desperate attempt to improve him before he left Next Step.

  The other fourteen messages were from Cathan. I didn’t look at any of them, because I knew he’d just be whining about me going away with the history club. Cathan still seemed to think he was my boyfriend despite the fact I’d dumped him months ago.

  I deleted the messages from Cathan, looked at the other Seventeens, and saw they were all watching an argument between Dezi and Owen. Like me and Cathan, Dezi and Owen had started boy and girling at a Year Day 2788 party, and broken up just before the school spring break. Unlike me and Cathan, they both agreed that their relationship was over. In fact, they loathed each other now.

  The overhead signs were showing it was 12:58 here in Earth America. The New York professional pilot would be on his midday break now, so this was a good time for me to call him about the arrangements for my flying lessons.

  I moved a few steps further away from the other Seventeens to make sure they wouldn’t overhear my conversation. I had to wait a long time before my call was answered, and an image of what I thought was a ceiling appeared on my lookup screen. An impatient voice snapped at me.

  “I’ve already told you a thousand times, I’m not going to the battle re-enactment!”

  “What battle re-enactment are you talking about?” I asked eagerly.

  There was a groan, the image on my lookup screen jerked violently, and a man’s head came into view. Gradin was 60 years old, so his face was starting to show signs of age despite regular rejuvenation treatments, and his sandy hair was speckled with grey. As usual, he was scowling ferociously.

  “Oh chaos,” he said, in tones of deep despair. “It’s Jarra Reeath.”

  “Of course it’s me. Who did you think it was?”

  “Valeska.” Gradin gave a grunt of disgust. “She’s been calling me a dozen times a day for the last week, nagging me to go to some tedious battle re-enactment with her. I’ve spent the last thirty years telling Valeska that I hate history, but she never listens.”

  Hospital Earth Administration staff picked appropriate names for its wards from an approved list that hadn’t been updated for a century, so the less outdated ones got reused a lot. “Is that the same Valeska who was running the Air Control channel when we were in Athens?”

  “That’s right.” Gradin waved a hand in dismissal. “Leave me alone now, Jarra. It’s bad enough having Valeska constantly hassling me with calls, without you joining in.”

  I’d spent enough time having flying lessons from Gradin to know that you had to stand your ground firmly to get him to do anything. “We need to arrange the times of my flying lessons.”

  He groaned again. “I don’t know why I agreed to help you get your pilot’s licence. I hate letting anyone ride in my aircraft, and you’re the most irritating pupil I’ve ever had. You giggle. You lecture me about history. You crashed one of my planes.”

  I threw a rapid glance over my shoulder t
o make sure that no one else had heard that. I was relieved to see that everyone was still nosily watching Owen and Dezi. If any of my friends ever found out about that plane crash, I would melt into the floor from the humiliation.

  “We need to arrange the times of my flying lessons,” I repeated.

  “You’ll have to call me about that this evening. I’m busy now.”

  I shook my head. “You aren’t busy now. I was careful to call you during your two-hour midday break.”

  “The reason pilots get a two-hour midday break from flying is to let them rest and eat. Not so that annoying girls can call them and chatter for ages.”

  “It will only take one minute for us to arrange my lesson times, and then I’ll leave you in peace.”

  Gradin ran his hands through his wiry hair. “I suppose that’s the only way to get rid of you,” he said ungraciously. “I’ll take you with me on my morning flights. Make sure you’re at the New York Fringe landing area, wearing an impact suit and ready to fly, by 08:30 at the latest. I’ll leave you behind if you’re even a second late.”

  “I won’t be late.” I gave him a hopeful smile. “Can I come along on your afternoon flights as well? Remember that I’ll need plenty of flying time to get the mandatory training hours for my pilot’s licence.”

  “I know precisely how many hours I’ll have to suffer your company, Jarra,” said Gradin bitterly. “I’d like to get the ordeal over with as quickly as possible, but my nerves will be under enough strain from taking you with me on my morning flights. I can’t bear being stuck in a plane with you every afternoon as well.”

  “But ...”

  “No, no, no, no, no!” Gradin interrupted me. “You can come along on my morning flights, but that’s all. Take it or leave it.”

  I sighed. “I’ll take it. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at ...”

  I let my words trail off because Gradin had ended the call. I put my lookup away and went back to join the other Seventeens. As I reached them, I saw they were all staring at something behind me. I turned to check what they were looking at, and saw the off-worlder woman that I’d noticed back in Europe Transit 3. She wasn’t standing and watching us now, but striding towards me.