You've Got Time

Open Your Eyes, Child

So open your eyes child, let's be on our way
Broken windows and ashes are guiding the way
Keep quiet no longer, we'll sing through the day
Of the lives that we've lost, and the lives we've reclaimed

Prayer of the Refugee - Rise Against

-

"There it is: Clovis Bray."

They all stopped for a minute to admire it. The steel and glass structure rose several stories up, standing proud and ageless compared to the countless wrecks of the city behind them. A few panes were blown out here and there, but the overstructure was strong and unstooped by the weight of the centuries.

The Kinderguardian (who had still not chosen a name) eyed the building with some skepticism. "With all that glass, how has it not been looted already?"

"The shutters are down," Andal answered, gesturing to the lower level of the building. Indeed, now that she looked, she could see what would have been floor-to-ceiling windows on the first and second floors were covered by some dully reflective material. "Plus, that's no ordinary glass. Probably bulletproof and shatterproof and fireproof and all that. And who's around to loot it, besides the Fallen, who don't care, and us, who, I must mention, are about to begin looting it? We're in the middle of nowhere."

They had all gone to bed at some terribly late hour, sleeping in until the sun had risen a good way towards noon. Then, after some brief lessons on how to ride a Sparrow, (Cayde had insisted it was just like riding a bike, but she didn't know how to ride one of those, either), they had set off in an easterly direction.

It was only two and a half hundred kilometers to Beja, give or take, and another dozen to the target. Supposedly their Sparrows could take that in an hour and a half on a straightaway. In practice the roads were jammed with burnt-out cars and too open to watchful Fallen eyes. It was slower going off-road, but much safer. It was several hours to the river, and since the bridge at Pedrogão was out, an hour more to find a crossing and creep back around to the facility. Their Sparrows could skim over calm water, but near the facility the river ran a deep gulch that was too wide to jump. Further upstream the terrain was more favorable, but a freak storm system to the north had been dumping rain into the watershed. The river swelled its banks, swift and treacherous. But now they were finally here, perched atop their Sparrows, admiring the Golden Age ingenuity that had let this one building stand the test of time.

Time was not something Andal liked to waste. There had been no signs of Fallen activity so far, but for all he knew, an alarm had already been sent. So after a few moments admiring the lab, he started giving orders. It was review, mostly, but a little review never hurt. "Shiro first, then me, Cayde, Tevis. Fast and quiet. Kill any Fallen you see before they get a signal out. Spread out, first objective is the stash. Once we find that, Shiro take the top floors, Tevis the basement, grab anything that looks interesting. Me and Cayde will set up the transmat. Newbie," her head jerked around to make eye contact, "stay by the door and watch for Fallen activity. Or any activity. You see anything about that isn't a deer or a bird, call it out right off. Worse comes to worst, hold the door as well as you can. That's our best exit point."

He held up his hand for his Ghost. The little machine projected a map of the area. Andal gestured with a knife. "We're here. Rendezvous is... here." He traced a route southward to a major road intersection. "Brinches. If all goes to hell. Otherwise, we just head south until it's safe to bring in the ships. Rookie's in mine. Any questions?"

"If we leave before the rain hits, do I win the bet?" Cayde asked. They all glanced northward, to the fast-approaching clouds.

"Sure," Andal drawled, "but that's not gonna happen. Let's roll."