More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
‘We had planes. We flew them. They had planes. They flew them. There was some shooting involved. All that mattered, really, was who was still flying at the end of it.’
‘Good landing,’ Blansher said, offering an arm to support him. The pilot sagged heavily, shaking. ‘Good… landing…?’ he coughed. Blansher smiled. ‘You walked away from it, didn’t you?’
Darrow put down his pack and saluted his former leader. ‘Darrow,’ Heckel said. His face had a strange, wistful look. ‘Darrow, do you think they know I’m sorry?’ ‘Who, sir?’ ‘The cadets. Hunt Flight. Emperor save us, so many of them died.’ ‘You did everything you could, sir.’ Heckel breathed deeply. ‘You know, Darrow? That’s just what I’m afraid of.’ Heckel picked up his pack, patted Darrow on the arm, and hurried away towards the transports.
‘Good flying,’ he said, and jogged away to check on his machine. I wish people would stop saying that, Jagdea thought.
‘Let this day be profitable and successful,’ the rector said. ‘Let the strength of will and the clarity of sight that is the province of the most high and glorious Imperator, he that is the God-Emperor of all Mankind, inform your work this day. May his glory be everlasting, and his beacon of enlightenment shine to us all in the darkness. For the Golden Throne, everlasting, and in his name’s sake, let his will be done.’ The rector made the sign of the aquila across his breast, and everybody did the same.
War claimed men. They died. Machines crashed. Leaders, like Viltry, felt guilt and remorse. It would ever be the way, for in the galaxy of man, there is only war.
They flew on through a cloud bank, billowing like fog, and then came clear. The skirmish was ahead of them. Skirmish. What an inadequate word. The voice of Operations sounded like a boy, a child. This was war.
‘Can’t you just… correct your data?’ Viltry asked. ‘Not that simple, I’m sorry to say. Once the records say you’re dead, I’m not allowed to argue with it. The best I can do is register you as pending.’
