Prodigy

Watching the Republic win? You tell me what’s better. But you grew up in the Republic. Who knows what you’d think of the Colonies. You might think it’s a paradise.”
    “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” I reply. “My father used to tell me stories about the Colonies. He said there were cities completely lit up by electricity.”
    “Your dad worked for a resistance or something?”
    “I’m not sure. He never said it out loud. We all assumed he must’ve been doing
something
behind the Republic’s back, though. He’d bring back these . . . trinkets related to the United States. Just odd things for a normal person to have. He would talk about getting us all out of the Republic someday.” I pause there, lost for a moment in an old memory. My pendant feels heavy around my neck. “Don’t think I’ll ever really know what he was up to.”
    Kaede nods. “Well, I grew up along one of the Colonies’ eastern coastlines, where it borders the South Atlantic. I haven’t been back in years—I’m sure the water’s gone at least a dozen more feet inland by now. Anyway, I got into one of their Airship Academies and became one of their top pilots in training.”
    If the Colonies don’t have the Trials, I wonder how they choose who to admit into their schools. “So, what happened?”
    “Killed a guy,” Kaede replies. She says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. In the darkness, she draws closer to me and peers boldly at my face. “What? Hey, don’t give me that—it was an accident. He was jealous that our flight commanders liked me so much, so he tried to push me over the edge of our airship. I damaged one of my eyes good during that scuffle. I found him in his locker room later and knocked him out.” She makes a disgusted sound. “Turned out I’d hit his head
too
hard, and he never woke up. My sponsor pulled out after that little incident tainted my reputation with the corps—and not because I killed him, either. Who wants an employee—a
fighter pilot
—with a bad eye, even after surgery?” She stops walking and points at her right eye. “I was damaged goods. My price went way down. Anyway, the Academy booted me out after my sponsor dropped me. It’s a shame, honestly. I missed out on my last year of training because of that damn con.”
    I don’t understand some of the terms Kaede uses—
corps, employees
—but I decide to ask her about them some other time. I’m sure I’ll gradually get more info about the Colonies out of her. For now, I still want to know more about the people I’m working for. “And then you joined the Patriots?”
    She flips her hand in a nonchalant gesture and stretches her arms out in front of her. I’m reminded of how tall Kaede is, how her shoulders line up with mine. “Fact of the matter is, Razor pays me. Sometimes I even get to fly. But I’m here for the money, kid, and as long as I keep getting my cash, I’ll do whatever I can to help stitch the United States back together. If that means letting the Republic collapse, fine. If it means the goddy Colonies taking over, fine. Get this war over and the US thing going. Get people living normal lives again. That’s what I care about.”
    I can’t help feeling a little amused. Even though Kaede tries to seem uncommitted, I can tell that she’s proud to be a Patriot. “Well, Tess seems to like you well enough,” I reply. “So I guess you must be all right.”
    Kaede laughs in earnest. “Gotta admit, she’s a sweet one. I’m glad I didn’t kill her in that Skiz duel. You’ll see—there’s not a single Patriot who doesn’t like her. Don’t forget to show some love to your little friend now and then, okay? I know you’ve got the hots for June, but Tess is head over heels mad for you. In case you couldn’t tell.”
    That makes my smile fade a little. “I guess I just never really thought about her like that,” I murmur.
    “With
her
past, she deserves some love, yeah?”
    I put my hand out and stop Kaede. “She told you about her past?”
    Kaede glances back at me. “She’s never told you her stories, has she?” she says, genuinely bewildered.
    “I could never get them out of her. She always sidestepped it, and after a while I just gave up trying.”
    Kaede sobers. “She probably doesn’t want you to feel sorry for her,” she finally says. “She was the youngest of five. She was nine at the time, I think. Parents couldn’t afford to feed all of them, so one night they