Free Bound by Chris Michaels, Reema Farra Page A

something, but the tri-plane rumble stole his words.
    The beast wanted to be free. So did Jason. He released the brake lever.
    Dagger shot forward. Jason rocked back. Within seconds the wheels released the earth.
    Only a few feet from the ground, a grinding sound exploded from the engine block. Jason yanked back on the altitude control, but the stick shook wildly and wouldn’t obey. Smoke billowed from the engine and filled the cockpit, blinding him and burning his lungs.
    This can’t be happening! We just got off the–
    The pitch control danced. Gauges spun frantically. Dagger’s nose dipped. The propeller spluttered and stopped. The tri-plane pointed straight at the ground. They crashed into the earth with a deafening roar and balanced precariously on the propellers. Jason feared the plane would tip them upside down, trapping and crush them inside its metallic body. Instead it fell sideways. The wings shrieked and the metal cords holding the wings to the body pinged and snapped. The beast rolled and bounced as it fell away from its right half. Jason’s head slammed on the instrument panel. White, hot pain blazed through his skull. Blood splattered into his eyes.
    Jason lost sight of the world.
    When he came to, unfamiliar faces surrounded him. Smothering. He tried to sit up but an officer in a blue SkyCorps uniform pushed him back down on the hard earth. Crackling fire and thick plumes of smoke were just visible beyond the officer. Jason tried to speak, but couldn’t make any words come out.
    A woman in a white Nurse’s frock, kneeling beside Jason, poked around the gash on his forehead. Without warning he rolled to his side and vomited. The pressure and swelling in his head intensified from the movement, he could barely see straight.
    After a minute his vision cleared somewhat and he caught sight of T on the ground a few feet away. Three adults surrounded him, hiding his face. One laid a stretcher on the ground while the other two lifted his friend onto it.
    T didn’t move.
    Jason forced air through his throat but all that came out was a cracked, half-whisper, “brother.” He reached out, but didn’t have the strength. The adults whisked T away.
       
    Sixteen hours. Not a word about his friend. Very few words at all. The Colonel Master of the airstrip “debriefed” Jason as soon as he could talk. The Colonel’s questions were short and harsh. From there, they took Jason to the Academy Dean, but the only word there was, “suspended.” Jason’s bunkmates begged him to talk about the adventure while he packed his things, but the headmaster forbade him to speak about the incident.
    On the train home, many words were spoken around him, but none to him. Even at home, there were few words. His mother simply said, “Dinner at Eight,” and, “Emergency Chancellor Vote this afternoon.”
    Now he sat in his room, picking at his bandage, trying to ignore the words that threatened to tear him apart.
    Was T alive?
    Father stepped through the door. “The foreign boy is expected to recover.”
    Jason snapped to attention. “When can I see him?”
    “How did you get past the gate?” Father shut the door.
    “Like I told the Colonel,” Jason blinked, “we climbed.”
    “You’ve been suspended three weeks. You’ll miss exams.”
    “Where’s T?”
    “You’ll be a year behind.”
    “Did they suspend T? It wasn’t his idea. I told–”
    “These are dangerous times for Ilsa.” Father stepped closer, eyes fixed on Jason. “The colonies are in riot. The Barbarian Kingdoms are watching. We must be strong. Decisive.”
    Jason clenched his fists. “What did you do with T?”
    “ I must be strong to protect the Senate. Those fools are on the verge of electing Slake Diamond as emergency chancellor. I can’t do anything if I’m cleaning up your mess and apologizing for your shame.”
    “I don’t care!” Jason shouted.
    Father froze. Jason had never gone that far, never shouted like that, but now he let the