Titans of Chaos

"Colin, since it was Amelia's paradigm, you're on burial detail. Quentin, if Colin needs to beinspired with how to keep the dead fish... normal... you know, not enough free will to movearound as icky corpses or something, can you inspire him? Do you have a spell for keeping fish,um, fishy?"

Quentin bowed, touching his forelock. "Yes, Leader. I can tell him the true name of the firstsalmon."

To me she said quietly, "Keep the trick in mind to use against an enemy weapon or something. Butdon't be rash, Amelia. Work with Colin if things get out of hand."

(Work with Colin? Colin, the walking bag of sperm? No, ma'am, thank you, ma'am.)Vanity added, "And, Amelia..."

"Yes, Leader?"

Loud enough for the others to hear, she said, "This episode will not go on your permanent record,but our final exam is in three days. I am hoping for better results than this! Please keep that inmind, Miss Windrose."

Something clear. Something plain.

That was when I decided to see how high I could fly. Oh, yes.

Oh, yes indeed. I waited till no one was around.

Dawn. The layabouts were still asleep. The air was crisp and the morning sea breeze was still cool.

I stood on trampled ferns, and the scent of bruised grasses mingled with the ever-present smell ofcoconut palms.

I pulled on my leather flying jacket and donned my lucky aviatrix cap, buckled the chin strap,adjusted the goggles over my eyes. And the long white scarf: We mustn't forget the scarf! A ladypilot is practically naked without it.

I bent the world-lines to minimize gravity. I rotated my wings into Earth's three-space, so thatfans of shining blue-white light seemed to be to the right and left of me. Little glints and highlightsshone from the leaves around me, and I could feel the tickling warmth of higher-dimensionalreflections on my cheeks.

And, then, a deep breath, bend the legs, and a little jump in the air. Up, up, and away.

The greedy Earth with its mindless, massive pull held me no longer.

The palm trees' crowns were below my toes, a feathery green lawn that soon dwindled to the toygarden a child might make with moss in a shoebox. The island was a streak of green and brownlost in a wide empty waste of water, blue and gray, crawling with ripples of white: Then it was apebble; then it was a speck. The sheer space, the wild wideness of the ocean, was exhilarating,almost frightening.

But I was heading for an ocean wider and emptier far.