Night Song (The Guild Wars Book 9) by Mark Wandrey (best management books of all time .txt) 📗

Rex hadn’t been home since morning. She considered locking herself in her room and getting back to work on the half-melted engine she’d nabbed, but too much restless energy surged through her for that.

With a low growl, she grabbed her ear buds, shoved them in for a visible excuse to ignore everyone, and stalked back out of the house toward the office. Dailey, the crotchetiest of Silent Night’s flight line mechanics, would still be at work. Unlike the majority of Humans, he could be relied on to point her toward something that needed fixing without wasting her time, or his, with useless words and overexplaining.

Diagnosing and solving a problem would settle her thoughts as it always did, and she’d be something like fit company when everyone gathered back at home.

She stopped short of the hangar, eyes widening, a fresh scent barely registering against the conglomeration of fuel, Human, and machine. Forgetting Dailey for a minute, she turned her head, narrowing her eyes, working to trace it back toward the source…There.

A few minutes’ trot away from the flight line and toward the office.

“Shadow!”

“Sunny!” Her brother leapt up from his crouch, loping forward to meet her with his tail low and fast.

“You’ve been gone awhile.” She bumped his shoulder, not quite a punch, and dropped her jaw in a grin. “Get bored out in the wild?”

“Never. Knew you’d come tracking me if I was any later.”

“Ripley, probably. I’d just knock down the wall and take over your room.” Sonya studied him, deciding not to ask the questions crowding her mind. She loved her siblings, she did, but they were all just as weird as Humans, sometimes. Shadow most of all.

“That’s my Sunny. No need for adventure when you can get more space for projects.”

Usually that would have landed as the banter it was meant as, but on this particular day, Sonya’s ears flattened, and her mouth snapped shut. She shook her head, trying to ward off the anger, but she saw Shadow notice, and his silent concern grated more.

“Speaking of projects, I interrupted yours, and I’ve got to get back to mine.” She tried for a neutral tone and nearly had it. “Glad you’re back, Shadow.”

“Sun…” he started to say something, one ear twisting back before he shrugged. “Glad to see you too.”

She murmured something and trotted away, swallowing back the growl trying to rise in her chest. If only they’d been raised anywhere but Earth. Sonya couldn’t picture their lives without Dana and Alan, even on the worst days, but she could have done without Humans as a whole, ruining her day with their offhand squeals.

Hands clenched into fists, she stalked past Dailey, grabbed a slate with the latest checklist, and busied herself reading through the day’s traffic. Somewhere in there would be something to distract her.

* * * * *

Chapter 2

Brisbane Australia, Earth, Cresht Region, Tolo Arm

Dana looked up from her slate as Alan entered. “You catch Shadow?”

“Red-handed.”

“He tell you some furphy?”

“No,” Alan said and shook his head. “He admitted he’d been woop woop, out Alice Springs with some Aboriginals.”

“What are we going to do with him?” She looked suspicious. “You did ground him like we talked about?” When Alan went over to his desk and made like he was looking through papers, she put her hands on her hips. “Bloody hell, Alan.”

“He’s a good kid.”

“He’s an alien.”

“He’s your son.”

Dana sighed and nodded slowly. “I know, and I love him, but that doesn’t change what he is. Different species, different motivations. We don’t completely understand them—we may never. He needs to understand consequences.”

“Do you regret our decision?”

“Never for a minute,” Dana said emphatically. “They’re as much my kids as if I birthed them. I love all five. I think I would have died if Shadow hadn’t recovered when he got that sickness. But like I said, it doesn’t change that they’re not Human.”

“I hoped this Coshke their leader talked about would come and get them, only nobody did. Then they got older, and…” Alan shrugged.

“They became ours,” Dana said. Alan nodded.

“I put Shadow to work on the cafeteria project as payment.”

“You’re too easy on them,” Dana said. Alan nodded again, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then he sobered.

“We’re just so lucky the war never got here. The fighting in South America and Texas? It’s enough to make you chunder just thinking about it.”

“Makes me sick, too,” Dana agreed.

“I wanted to help.”

“I know, dear.”

“With most of the company on contract, what did we have?” He shook his head. They both knew all too well. Less than a platoon, and no real transport. A single ancient Phoenix-class dropship, and no starship. They’d sat and watched the war play out on Tri-V. “We have to find out why the lads haven’t reported in.” The war had ended a month ago, and he’d immediately sent out a message, but with the speed of messages in the Union, it might not have even reached its intended destination yet.

“No ship,” she reminded her husband. “Without Starbright, what can we do? Hiring a ship is too expensive. I’ve run the numbers a hundred times. We’re almost broke, and now we hear we can’t take contracts?”

“Yeah, we’re short on options.”

“At least the CASA finally gave us the bloody waiver,” Dana said.

Alan nodded. They’d applied to independently service light orbital traffic right after the war ended. The starports in Melbourne and Sydney were both still largely non-functional. They couldn’t produce hydrogen because the cities’ fusion power plants were at low output. F11 stores on the planet were nearly exhausted.

The Australian authority that controlled who could land where was called CASA, Civil Aviation Safety Authority. Like most Aussie government, it didn’t work fast. However, constant complaints of orbital operating