I do not know how long I stayed in that spot, but it was the first light of dawn reflecting from the shiny hull of the Skytrain that brought me back to full consciousness. I looked around me, trying to get my bearings, and remembered what had happened in the night.
Was it a dream?
I was instantly aware of the futility of such a question.
In whatever form the experience had manifested itself, it was real, and it happened. We inhabit a multiverse where identity and location are fluid, where time is irrelevant, and parallel realities exist simultaneously; every state of perception is as valid as any other. But within that realm of constant change, there are immutable values that are indisputable and permanent in a universe born of mind. Those are the values that the Lingzhe personify. They are not merely guardians. They are the echoes of consciousness.
I strolled to the Skytrain, and Sol jumped down to meet me. Steven quickly realised that something had happened. He was very sensitive to my moods and guessed what had happened.
"Another vision, David? Sol asked. Was it the Lingzhe?"
I nodded.
"We can talk about it later," said Sol. "I have found a Primus and some coffee in the crew section. I will make a hot drink. Come aboard.
We walked up to the front of the aircraft, where Sol had made a place for us to sit outside the cockpit.
"Do you want to sit in the pilot seat?" Sol asked. "It might be a bit more comfortable for you there."
I did as he said and eased myself into the leather seat. There was a humming sound, and the radio suddenly came to life.
"Canada One to Skytrain. Are you receiving me? Over.
"I say again. Canada One to Skytrain. Canada One to Skytrain. Are you receiving me? Over.
I picked up the handset from its cradle and pressed the centre bar to transmit.
"Skytrain to Canada One. Receiving you loud and clear. Over.
"Good to hear from you boys, but we have a problem. Stand by. Over."
"Skytrain standing by."
In the silence, I said to Sol.
"It has to be Joe," I said to Sol, "but where is he speaking from?"
"Canada One to Skytrain. I have a bandit at Angels One Three, right below me. He has not seen me, and I am going in. Tally – Ho!"
Joe kept his radio on. We could hear the scream of his engines as he went into a dive and the rattle of his guns as he opened up.
"Got him!" 'Shouted Joe.' He is going down in flames. It was a surveillance drone, and he would have been over you in a couple of minutes. Over"
"Skytrain to Canada One. Nice shooting, Joe. Are you in a hurricane? Over."
"Affirmative, Skytrain. I am a bit low on juice. Have you got room for a little'un down there? Five miles out. Wind speed. Over.
"Can you handle this, Sol?" I said
Sol took the handpiece.
"Affirmative, Canada One. Wind light and variable, less than five knots. No significant crosswind. Proceed with landing."
"Copy that. Visual on the strip. Coming in hot. No go-around. Over."
"Understood. The strip is yours. Watch your flare; she's narrow. Over."
"Roger. Gear down. Final approach. Keep your heads down. Over."
"All eyes on you, Joe. Good luck. Over."
"Canada One to Skytrain. Touching down… now."
It was a perfect landing, and the little Spitfire came to a halt a hundred yards away.
"Wheels on. Rolling clean. Welcome back, Joe. Over and out."
We could see him getting out of his Hurricane, in its familiar camouflage colours of green and brown, and walking our way to the back of the Skytrain. The cargo doors had remained open, and we jumped down to meet the approaching figure of Joe.
The first thing I noticed was that he was not wearing his flying gear. He was dressed for the mountains in a thick parka jacket, waterproof trousers and high, laced-up boots. Even from this distance, I could see that he looked older and had a greyish tint to his hair. As we closed up together, he said.
"Thanks for the landing call; Sol, very professional, took me back to the old days."
He looked at me with tears in his eyes.
"David, it is so good to see you."
"Me, too, Joe," I said, and we embraced.
I could feel that he had lost some weight, and his body was tense.
How could I be hugging a man that I had last seen plummeting from the air in what looked like the same aircraft he had just landed in, in a ball of fire and crashing into the side of a mountain?
But Joe was real, an alternative Joe in an alternative world, but he was the same man. I wondered how much he could recall of that other life. Memories do not usually survive a transition, but he remembered me and Sol.
"David," he said, "there is a great deal for us to discuss, but we must first attend to an urgent, practical matter. A quick explanation: time is not on our side. After the bombing of your compound, the commandant decided that it was not only you but also the four of us in his custody that the machines were targeting. He did not want any more raids on the base, and the simplest way was to remove us. He could have had us killed, I suppose, but he expelled us instead. He is not a bad man, but the security of his people came first."
"Where did he send you?" I asked.
He ordered his men to give us basic supplies and cold-weather clothing and leave us outside the furthest perimeter of the external fence. He advised us to climb down and contact the subterranean human population, but he left us in no doubt that it was going to be a very hazardous journey that we might not survive. The machines would soon track us down, and judging by the scale of the attack on the compound, they would use everything they had to come after us. The Commandant was being honest with us, and I think he was truly sorry that he had no option but to go ahead and expel us from the base."
Joe glanced up at the sky worriedly.
"It is only a matter of time now."
"Please go on, Joe," I urged as Joe appeared to falter.
"Yes, of course," he said, visibly trying to pull himself together.
"After the soldiers dropped us off, we decided to wait and make the descent after the dawn mist rose, and it became full daylight. I could not settle and went outside. I walked along the perimeter fence until I reached the old runway. The hangars were still there, and I walked over to investigate, partly pulling open the unlocked doors, only to find my Hurricane aircraft sitting on the concrete floor looking as if it had just come off the production line.
"I was rooted to the spot with shock, but eventually stirred myself and climbed up to the cockpit. It felt like coming home."
"Joe," I said, "sorry to interrupt, but do you remember crashing the Hurricane trying to escape the old world?"
Joe looked at me, obviously puzzled.
"Don't know where you got that story from, David, but it wasn't me. I never crashed any aircraft."
"Sorry, Joe, my mistake; please continue," I said.
"Anyway," he said, "I checked the kite over and found her fully primed and ready to go, fully armed and fuelled, although the gauge registered low. Without thinking, I started her up, and she caught the first time. Leaving the engines running, I jumped down and fully opened the hangar doors. It was quite a job and took five minutes of hard work, but I did it, and after racing back to the Hurricane, I taxied out onto the runway. By then, the rest of them had heard the noise and were waiting on the tarmac. I said,
'Sorry, boys, single seater. No time for discussion, but I am going to fly down and land in the foothills. I will try to flush out the locals; the noise of the aircraft will alert them, and I will get up a rescue party to bring you down. If you start now, they should be able to meet you before you reach the bottom. I will hang around, and if any drones show up, I will do my best to shoot them down. Now get going!'
I took off and was circling to come in when I saw the Skytrain parked up. You know the rest."
A small avalanche of stones came rattling down the mountain above us, and we looked up to see Jarvis waving madly from a ledge. We waved back, and Jarvis was joined by the other three as they slipped down the slopes towards us.
We were all excited, but Sol was scanning the skies and said one word.
"Trouble."
We looked up, and on the distant horizon, we saw what appeared to be a long, unbroken line of black dots that covered the skyline.
"Drones," said Joe, " the largest number that I have seen in the air at one time, and they are headed our way."