Recombinant Bridgehead

Impulse

Kiri spanned out her arms and balanced on her ikran, wanting to see how long she could fly with no hands. Eyes closed, she let herself become Palm-Palm and felt the twirling drafts roll over her wings.

"Careful, Kiri, you risk falling doing that."

"You should see her do it while standing up," Neteyam chuckled, flying up on his father's left.

"What kind of stunts do you kids pull when I'm not looking?"

"Nothing you wouldn't do, Father."

Toruk Makto grunted. "That's assuring."

Kiri started losing her balance and wobbled forwards on Palm-Palm's neck, who steadied himself for his princess. She hugged and kissed her loyal boy before sitting back up.

With the father leading the flock, he led his offspring over the singing valley of Sosul Syanan for a casual family outing. Lately, he had been noticing a dip in Kiri's mood and figured Txurseng was to blame. When Neteyam mentioned White Flower also needed exercise, it was all Jake needed to book a pleasant afternoon to be with the kids.

Kiri drew up her special necklace, a clay whistle sculpted like a Banshee of Paradise, and played a melody. Charmed by the inviting tune, a flock of winayo gradually rose from the canopies and accompanied the family. The birds of many colours swept around them in circles, dancing to Kiri's notes, and father and son admired the billowing rainbow sheet. When the cloud sped ahead, the siblings followed, sailing on that rolling wave of iridescent wings.

A game began between the two as they merrily twirled around one another, pirouetting on their ikrans in step with the dance. With Polyphemus as their stage backdrop, the sapphirine Palm-Palm blended in with the majestic orb, while White Flower appeared like a fleck floating on a pool of swirling ink.

Jake's braided mane rippled behind him as the warrior from Earth looked upon his young. His face creased upward as he listened to their mirth, and his heart swelled with happiness. Jake didn't know what star he was born under or what act pleased Providence so much to bring him to this world, but he was thankful for his fairy-tale life and prayed that the halcyon days would never end.

Sensing Palm-Palm was growing thirsty, Kiri signalled to her father, who followed her to a muddy clearing where they landed on a pockmarked shore. The man was vigilant, scanning the still surroundings, but once the Marine was satisfied enough to dismount, he joined his daughter, who was tenderly petting her drinking dragon.

"Looks like a stampede went through here," he observed.

Kiri nodded.

"Nice day for flying. It gets gloomy at High Camp, doesn't it?"

Again, Kiri nodded, being more preoccupied with Palm-Palm.

"Noticed you've seemed glum these past few days. I know it's been hard with all the restrictions lately—you used to be able to fly wherever you like, and I've been keeping you cooped up. War's made life difficult for all of us."

She was beginning to feel uneasy.

"Hey." With a small grin, he chucked his daughter on the chin. "I want you to know you've been a good sport about it."

Kiri's eyes darted over her father's proud face before looking away in shame, hiding her guilt with another nod.

"Something wrong?"

She shook her head no, desperately wanting him to stop. Kiri's conscience had been pestering her ever since that night she snuck out with Spider. She kept trying to convince herself it was a non-issue, that it didn't matter anymore, but the guilt would not abate.