The blue roofs of the city and the frozen lake.
And the tents of the Sou Be-Il Royal Air Force, erected 100 meters from the lakeshore. The sun shone brilliantly over the city and its residences.
The little aerosan made its way across the lake and towards the city, scattering snow in its wake.
Benedict brought the aerosan to a stop in front of the guard station. He then turned off the
engine.
Fiona opened the door and stepped outside first. The guard on standby was shocked. By
the time Allison and Wil followed Fiona out, the guard was flabbergasted. Benedict was the last to disembark. The guard finally saluted.
Benedict saluted back and pointed at the aerosan. "Good work today. Take care of the aerosan—the gun is inside."
"Yes, sir. Er…about your pa-"
"My passengers? They're important guests of mine. We're going in," Benedict said curtly, and gestured for the others to follow him.
They passed by the surprised guard and entered the encampment on the ice. "What will you do, Allison and Wil?" Benedict asked. Allison, still wearing her
sunglasses, responded.
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"The travel to the capital, I mean. They will quickly prepare an aeroplane for us. Will we go together? But Wil might be difficul- I mean, troubled. You do not need to try too hard to go. I will make contact with you later."
Allison answered, "Well, we're feeling pretty tired now. I guess we could—" "I'll go!" Wil cut in.
Allison turned, bewildered.
"I'll go with you. Take me along."
"Is that so? What will you do about school in that case?" Benedict asked, amused. Wil's answer was simple.
"Who cares?"
Allison gaped at Wil as though he were a creature from outer space. "I understand. And you, Allison?"
"Huh? Of course I'm coming along!" "Very good."
Allison went up to Benedict and whispered to him in Bezelese, "You know, I really don't like sitting in the passenger seat. And we really don't want to play third and fourth wheel. So, er…could you get another plane ready for us, Major?"
Benedict thought for a moment, and asked Fiona for her understanding—as he could not express such a complicated answer in Roxchean, he would speak in Bezelese for a moment. He
then turned back to Allison. "To be honest, that might be difficult. Even I can't ask the men to prepare a craft for a pair of outside personnel. Asking for one craft is a challenge already."
"I see," Allison sighed. But Benedict continued. "But—"
"Yes?"
"I might be able to ask them to warm up two crafts so I can decide later which one I want
to fly."
"Oh, really? And?"
"Fiona and I will take off on one of them, but make an emergency landing because of
engine trouble. Once everyone rushes over in a panic, there might not be anyone left in the hangar area for a while. Then some sneaky outsider might end up commandeering the second aeroplane. That wouldn't be good."
"It'd certainly be a disaster."
"Yes. But once everything is finished and I explain the situation, I'm sure I'll get off with just a pay cut and a demotion."
"I see. You know, I've been wanting to try that two-seater you flew before. Will I ever get a chance, do you think?"
"I hope so. Nice weather today, don't you agree?" "It's certainly nice today."
As Wil watched the pair whispering excitedly, Fiona approached him. "What are they talking about?"
"I can't hear them very well from here, but from the look on Allison's face, I think…she must be…"
"Yes?" Fiona asked.
"…She must be up to no good," Wil replied.
"Welcome back, Major."
"Good work, Captain. Ah, these people are my guests."
In front of Benedict's tent, they ran into the bespectacled captain. Standing in a row behind Benedict were Fiona, Wil, and Allison. "We received shelter at a nearby village last night. Apologies for not contacting the camp. In any case, I'd like to take my friends out on a flight," Benedict said.
"P-pardon?" the captain stuttered.
"I was thinking of going on a sightseeing flight. I'm not sure yet if I want to take everyone on the new surveillance model or my own craft, so I want you to prepare both. Right now," Benedict said matter-of-factly. The captain was clearly flustered.
"P-please, sir. The crew spent all day yesterday doing maintenance on the crafts for departure tomorrow. If you take them out today, our schedule—"
"I understand that, Captain. You'll just have to have the technicians work on them overnight today. Get the crafts ready."
"But—"
Benedict glared, holding up his pointer finger.
"Captain. This is an order from a superior officer. Bring both crafts out of the tents and warm up the engines. That is all. Be quick."
Benedict did not even wait for an answer. With a glance at the captain's clearly uncomfortable expression, Allison went up to Benedict. "Looks like your reputation's going to take a hit, Mr. Hero."
Benedict smirked. "I'm only a fake, anyway."
"Not at all—to me and Wil, at least. And maybe to her, too." "Hm?"
Suddenly, Benedict found himself meeting Fiona's worried gaze. He walked over to her. "Er… Are you sure this is all right? Won't you get in trouble if you do this?" she asked.
Benedict smiled in response. "Yes. I will be in big problem—er, trouble for doing something which I am not to do."
Fiona could not come up with a response. Benedict continued, "But Miss Fiona. If you have to choose from what you want to do, that is going to the capital, and getting me in trouble, which should—er, would you pick?"
"…Take me to the capital."
"I understand. Let us prepare to go to the Kunst." Benedict led the others to his tent.
Two aeroplanes were pulled onto the ice in front of the rectangular tent side-by-side.
One was the green craft that Benedict had flown the other day. There was a beacon drawn on the side of the fuselage, modeled after the mural.
The other craft was the new surveillance model Benedict had chosen. It was used for observing areas that had been bombed, simple scouting missions, or transportation of personnel.
The surveillance craft was a little longer than the fighter craft, but in terms of design it lacked the sleek agility of the fighter.
The frame was a murky green tinted with brown. There was cloth draped over it. The cockpit was narrow and housed a small engine. On either side of the frame were flat windows. On top were the main wings, which looked rather like a pair of long planks. The landing gear sticking out from under the frame was outfitted not with wheels, but skis. Multiple supports crisscrossed the gap between the landing gear and the main wings.
The repair technicians got to work on the two crafts, looking quite disgruntled. They checked the fuel and the restraints, and one technician climbed into each of the cockpits to warm up the engines. The propellers began to spin.
"I can hear the engines. Let us wait the short time and sortie," Benedict said as they sat inside the tent.
Over his black uniform he wore a leather aviator jacket, which was thinner than his coat. He was holding his uniform hat. Allison was holding a leather aviator hat, a pair of goggles, and a white muffler. "Thanks for letting me borrow these."
"You are welcome. There are no windshields in that aeroplane. It can be very cold. Please be determined before you fly that aeroplane."
Wil was wearing Benedict's flight suit. He tied the ends that were a little long for him, and wore an aviator jacket that Benedict had borrowed for him. Wil was also carrying a Sou Be- Il Royal Air Force-issue aviator hat, goggles, and muffler.
"I understand. But Allison will be flying the second craft, right? …Is this really okay?" Wil asked nervously.
"It's going to be fine," Allison said.
They walked up to the two aeroplanes in front of the tent. The engines had been shut off, and the planes were ready to fly.
The soldiers glanced nervously at them as they passed by the other tents. The female soldiers whispered quite audibly amongst themselves, anxiously speculating about the woman walking next to Benedict.
"Well, please do not worry," Benedict said to Fiona. "This…this is all right," she replied.
"I understand. Now, that will be the plane we ride on."
Benedict made his way to the surveillance craft. Thanking the bemused soldier who reported the completion of preparations, he ordered the soldier to climb down to make room for him and Fiona.
Benedict opened the door on the right side of the cockpit, which was quite high up, and sent Fiona inside first. He followed after. He shut the door and sat on her left. They put on their seat belts.
Benedict opened the triangular window on the side of the cockpit and stuck out his head, checking his surroundings. Then, he started the engines. The two propellers broke into a spin.
The lightweight craft trembled as it began to taxi.
As 40 or so soldiers watched, the surveillance craft headed for the communications tent.
It moved slowly and smoothly between the red-and-white pylons on the ice.
"Hm? Weren't you going to join the major?" asked the bespectacled captain, noticing that Allison and Wil were watching from next to the repair technicians.
"The lady who came with us hasn't been on an aeroplane before, so the major's going to give her a gentle tour first. Once they come back, he's going to take us on the fighter craft one at a time for some aerobatics," Allison lied with a smile on her face.
"I see… May I ask a question? Who is that woman?"
Wil answered, "We can't say yet. But you'll know soon. I guarantee it."
"Of course…" the captain mumbled. At that point, the surveillance craft passed by the communications tent and went into full throttle. It lifted off the ground after a very short taxi.
The craft ascended for a time. But suddenly, the engines cut out. "What?"
The soldiers watching the flight began whispering anxiously. The craft's main propeller stopped. The aeroplane broke out of its ascent and fell, making a landing on the ice. It continued forward for some time before finally coming to a sideways stop.
"Oh no…"
"Are they okay?"
"No one's coming out…"
"The engines cut out!" "Did something happen?"
"Let's go and help," one person finally said, and as if on cue, the soldiers scrambled to the surveillance craft. About 20 people traversed the frozen lake to reach the aeroplane. Those who remained had their eyes locked on the craft in worry.
Allison looked around. Making sure that almost no one in the makeshift hangar was there to see, and that the people near the second plane were all distracted by Benedict's craft, she tugged on Wil's sleeve.
"What is it?" "Let's go."
Allison and Wil ducked behind the frame of the aeroplane and crouched out of sight.
Telling Wil to wait there, Allison climbed under the plane. She unfastened the craft and returned. "Climb up and take a seat. Put on your seat belts and fasten the radio mic. You remember
how it goes, right? Once you have your seat belts on, give me a signal. Okay?" "Huh…? Right."
"Then go! Now!"
With that, Allison climbed up to the cockpit using the wing and the foothold on the side of the frame. Wil followed after her and struggled into the back seat. Allison fastened her seat belts in the blink of an eye and brought the microphone to her mouth. She put on headphones and put her aviator hat and goggles atop them.
As Allison finished preparations, Wil re-adjusted the bag on his shoulders and finally put on his seat belts.
"I'm done with the belts," he said to the front seat, and put himself to work setting up the radio. Just as he was wrapping the microphone around his throat, the engine came to life, spewing fire.
With a deafening roar, the aeroplane slid forward. The soldiers turned in shock. For a moment, they watched the craft taxi right by their eyes.
"S-stop! Who's on that craft?!" demanded a well-built sergeant in his thirties. A young soldier replied that they were guests of the major.
"What?"
"Well…I saw them climb on, but I thought that might be all right…"
"And you call yourself a soldier?! They're taking a Royal Air Force aircraft! Shit!
Someone give me their car keys!"
"We'll be borrowing this," Allison said to the confused soldiers on her left, though they obviously could not hear her. She looked to her right. Pylons were set up in a straight line leading to the side of the communications tent. In the distance, the propellers on Benedict's surveillance craft were beginning to spin again.
seats.
Benedict's craft began to taxi once more and took to the air in the blink of an eye. The soldiers running toward the surveillance craft stopped, relieved at the sight of the plane taking off again. Then, they noticed the second plane rushing in their direction and leapt off the runway in panic and in confusion at the identity of the pilot.
Allison raised her seat as much as she could for a good field of vision and continued to taxi down the runway.
But just as she made it halfway—
A truck cut in from the side, stopping in the middle of the runway, scattering snow in its wake. The well-built sergeant was sitting in the driver's seat, shouting something. Obviously, Allison could not hear him. He was bellowing, "You're not getting away!".
"Hey! Move!"
Naturally, the truck sat steadfast in the middle of the runway.
"Wh-what is he up to?!" Allison complained, pushing her engine further.
The plane sped up. Angling the nose slightly to the right, Allison taxied the plane along the edge of the runway. Then, she made a hard left. The rear wheels of the plane slid as the craft did a 180.
"Huh?" Wil turned. The first thing he saw was a truck. There was a well-built man in front of it, saying something to the other soldiers. Everyone was rushing their way.
Wil was lost for words. "Move! Move!"
The aeroplane passed by the hangar and the soldiers, and crossed the encampment with a roar of the engine. The soldiers watched in shock.
We can't get off the runway.>
Allison looked out at the vast field of snow and ice.
The aeroplane had left the encampment, and was on a path leading straight into Mushke.
Snow was piled up on either side of the road. There was a soldier standing blankly next to the guard station.
The surveillance craft was cruising comfortably overhead.
"What? What's going on?"
Benedict watched in shock as the aeroplane on the ground headed towards the blue city. A truck was driving up behind them.
"Damn it…" he muttered.
"What's wrong?" Fiona asked, finally breaking her silence after going quiet during takeoff. There was a very small gap between their seats, and they were sitting nearly shoulder-to- shoulder. The roar of the engines was loud but not enough to make conversation impossible.
"It is nothing. …But we might in the end go to Kunst in a pair." With that, Benedict put on his headphones.
The voice on the radio reached Wil as well. He cringed at Allison's howling.
The city on the lakeshore approached rapidly. Ahead of them was a ramp. The road led past the docks and into the downtown area.
"Nosedive…nosedive… That's it!"
Allison's eyes lit up as she looked out at the city from behind her goggles.
Wil shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them.
Allison gave the left throttle lever a gentle push. The propellers began to spin faster. The aeroplane rushed even faster toward Mushke.
"Sir! They're not stopping!" the young soldier driving the truck said to the indignant sergeant.
"Follow them anyway!" the sergeant roared.
Benedict looked down from the surveillance craft.
Benedict surveyed the ground. White roads zigzagged through the blue roofs.
Wil had unbuckled his seat belts and was sitting on top of the frame for a better view. The wind from the propellers sent his muffler billowing behind him. Wil hooked his legs through the seat belts so he wouldn't fall, and hung onto the frame with one hand. His face was pale.
With its wings spread wide, the fighter craft began climbing up the ramp. Allison pulled the throttle slightly. The plane went forward at walking speed, entering the city. Houses were on either side. The roar of the engine filled the streets. Soon, they came to an intersection. Allison veered to the right.
"Move! Out of the way! Coming through!" Allison cried loudly. An elderly woman sitting on the steps in front of a store looked up at the noise.
The aeroplane passed by the astonished woman. The shadow of the wing passed over her
head.
while.>
"Sir! What do we do? They're in the city!" asked the soldier in the driver's seat. The truck had ended up following the plane into the streets as well. The aeroplane sped ahead of them, making a turn with a spray of snow behind it.
"Follow them! Just keep going after them! They're bound to run into a dead end sooner or later!"
Next to the window of a house by the street, was a young boy about five years of age. He sat kneeling by the stone wall, looking down at the streets with his elbows on the frame.
From one side came the fighter craft. Its roaring filled the street with noise. "Wow…!"
The boy's gaze went from left to right.
"Talk about a loud car…" the boy's mother said from further inside the house. The boy
turned.
"Mommy! There's an aeroplane on the road!"
His young mother appeared, wiping her hands on her apron. The boy leaned forward,
staring at the disappearing fighter craft.
"No, no, sweetheart. Cars drive on the road. Aeroplanes fly through the sky," his mother said with a smile. The boy moaned in confusion.
Then, he smiled. "But it was just like an aeroplane!"
The aeroplane continued down the narrow streets. There was almost no gap between the tips of either wing and the houses on the roadside. Passersby struggled to pick up their jaws from the ground as they looked up at the fighter craft.
The road met the large street at an angle. To their right was a very tight corner. But about 30 meters before the intersection, a bus emerged from the left.
"Hey! You there!" Allison cried, "Stop that bus! Aeroplanes have right of way!" The bus started, but quickly stopped. The driver looked on incredulously.
"All right!"
Allison gave the throttle a gentle push.
Just before the intersection, she pulled the throttle. Making sure that there was no one on the right side of the street as the tip of the wing passed by the corner of the house, she stepped firmly on the right pedal. The plane veered to the right.
"Whoa!"
Back in his seat, Wil clung to the left side of the frame and resisted the centrifugal force. The left shock absorber was compressed, and the one on the right expanded. The frame, tilting to the left, resisted inertia and returned to level position with the rear wheel drifting sideways. The nose was pointed directly at the middle of the street.
"What the heck was that…? Whoever's piloting that thing is good," Wil's friend, sitting next to the bus driver, mumbled to himself.
A truck rushed after the fighter craft.
The craft barreled down the street. People turned at the sound and scrambled to get away. "Sorry! Get out of the way!"
<…I see. But…>
okay?>
The aeroplane left the street with the truck hot on its trail. On either side were snow-
covered forests. The road led to the pass in a gentle incline.
Wil did as he was told and fastened his seat belts in the shaking aeroplane.
For some time, the road went on. Then, they encountered another road to their left. It went diagonally in a gentle upward slope. Next to it was a little sign buried in snow, labeled 'TO SLANKALANS VIEWPOINT'.
The aeroplane made a left. Allison pushed the throttle lever and taxied the plane up the cleared road.
<'Sorry I messed up'! Okay! I apologized in advance!>
Wil looked up at the sky. Benedict's surveillance craft was cruising comfortably through the air. He mumbled to himself.
"I never wanted to get into a mess like this…whether it was this month or this time next month. …Why didn't I just volunteer for that other plane?"
There was a large parking lot at the top of the slope.
At the edges of the lot were signs bearing messages like 'Reconsider for the people who love you', 'Come to the church for counseling', and 'Don't throw away the lives your parents gave you!'
Beyond the signs were chest-high wooden walls that surrounded the perimeter. And beyond that was nothing.
"Sir! They're heading straight for…uh…the cliff! Slan-something or other. They're cornered!" the young soldier said, driving as fast as he could. The sergeant roared in triumph.
"Excellent! We'll catch them for sure!"
The fighter craft made one last turn. Ahead was a straight path leading directly to the parking lot.
Allison gave the throttle lever a hard shove.
The propellers began to spin furiously. The aeroplane sped up as though being pushed, climbing up the slope in one go and sliding into the parking lot. It then accelerated.
"Let's go!"
Allison pulled back the control stick, which she had pushed forward. The plane left the ground for a moment, but it did not have enough thrust to stay afloat. Just as the wheels skidded over the fence, the craft broke into a rapid descent.
There was nothing there for 800 meters.
A great white valley by the nearly perpendicular cliff, and a tiny object falling from a corner of the valley. It looked like a speck of dust falling off a table, but that particular piece of dust was carrying two people.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
"I'd lose my job if I tried this with my unit!"
The aeroplane fell at a dive, headed straight for the ground, as Wil screamed for his life and Allison cried out excitedly.
They were not far from the cliff face. From the side, it looked almost like they were on a plane preparing to land. But in this case, the plane was pointed at the ground and the surface passing rapidly underneath was a rugged rock face.
As they gained speed with gravity, Allison pulled on the control stick. The surface of the cliff began to grow distant.
The truck barreled into the parking lot and came to a screeching stop. There was nothing there. There was no one there.
"Wh-what…? What just happened…?!" the sergeant cried.
"YEAH!"
Allison cheered, pulling back the control stick. She broke out of the dive, returned to level position, then ascended rapidly. They could see the blue sky and the cliff from which they had fallen.
"There!"
Allison pulled the control stick to the side. The plane flew in a loop, and the sky and the ground did a 180 back into their rightful positions. The earth appeared just below the frame. The white viewpoint and the truck passed by underneath.
The sergeant looked up blankly at the aeroplane flying overhead.
* * *
Two aeroplanes flew side-by-side over the city of blue roofs. They were headed south along the lake.
Benedict returned the glance, looking at their aeroplane.
Benedict changed frequencies and called the communications tent in the Sou Be-Il encampment. The soldier in charge of the radio was lost for words. Soon, the captain answered the call.
After cutting the conversation short, Benedict whispered to himself, "…Wonder if I'll at least make first lieutenant now."
"Are you all right? Is this aeroplane your first aeroplane flight?" Benedict asked Fiona, who was sitting to his right. She nodded stiffly. The aeroplane to their left, which had been flying upside-down, turned right-side-up again.
"Are you not cold?"
This time, she shook her head.
"I see. If there is anything uncomfortable, please tell me. Saying that, we will go to the capital."
Allison's fighter craft was flying on the left side of the surveillance model.
They maintained course over the lake so that they could make an emergency landing if the engines gave out, and continued south. They could clearly see streets and power lines.
Beyond was a snowbank with coniferous trees dotting the slope. And to the side, rocky, snow- covered peaks that reached even higher than the aeroplanes' current altitude.
Wil answered that he wasn't sure.
Allison nodded, satisfied, and pressed the talk button.
Flying the surveillance craft, Benedict glanced at his watch. Them, he checked the fuel gauge and was about to look ahead.
"Hm?"
To his right, he noticed Fiona's left leg trembling. Her right leg, as well. He looked up and saw Fiona, her hands clasped over her chest. Her hands were also shaking. Her face was frozen stiff in trepidation and fear, and her eyes were locked on the instrument panel.
"You have something very important hiding on your chest, do you?" Benedict said. "What?" Fiona looked up, surprised. Benedict smiled.
"You put your hand on your chest often. When you saw the advertisement and when you said you are a princess to us."
"Yes…you're right. I'm surprised you noticed," Fiona said, her face still set. "There is no need to worry like you do now."
"I'm sorry for getting you involved in something like this."
"What do you mean by 'something like this'? I have the honor of carrying the Her Highness of this country," Benedict replied in good humor.
Fiona's expression loosened instantly. Her eyes narrowed and she smiled.
For a moment, Benedict lost himself in her smile. Then, he joined her in a grin. Fiona looked at him and finally spoke, the smile never leaving her lips.
"I'm a fake."
* * *
Fiona.
ago."
The surveillance craft flew over the lake with a pleasant roar, carrying Benedict and
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean exactly what I said. I'm not the real princess. Princess Francesca died ten years
"Er…but you are still going to the capital, yes? And in front of many people, you—" "Yes. I'm going to lie to them. I'm going to declared that I am Princess Francesca." "…Knowing that well, you still want to do it?"
"Yes. I do."
"…But why did you tell to me that you are fake?"
"Because…whether my plan works or not, I want at least one person to know the truth." Benedict did not say a word.
"If it's all right, could you hear out the rest of my story?"
Benedict replied, "There is still much time before we arrive in the capital."
That was when they received a message from Allison.
Allison frowned and looked over at the surveillance craft.
Benedict looked flabbergasted. He said something to Fiona, who nodded firmly. "What are they talking about?" Allison grumbled.
"Incredible…how could that be?"
Inside the surveillance craft. Benedict looked up at the sky with his back against his seat, mumbling in Bezelese. He unconsciously pulled back the control stick, and the aeroplane ascended slightly.
He quickly realized his mistake and returned the plane to level position.
Then he turned to Fiona and said in Roxchean, "Surprising… I was very surprised.
Yesterday and today, many things happened, but this was the most surprising. I have not been surprised this way since I saw first the mural."
"So you believe me? Thank you," Fiona said, smiling. Benedict responded in a loud
voice.
"Of course I believe you! Now I know everything. Who you are, and why you say you
are the Her Highness, and the reason why you want to go to the capital. I understand everything completely. I was surprised."
Then, his voice dropped to a whisper. "I was surprised…"
Fiona spoke up.
"Carr Benedict. You're a historic hero whom everyone admires and trusts. I'm glad that you're the one who shares my secret. I'm so glad I told you. I feel so much better now."
Fiona was wearing a smile full of calm serenity. But Benedict grinned wryly and looked her in the eye.
"Wh-what's wrong?"
"Miss Fiona. I want to tell you one truth also. It is about the heroic action of discovering the mural."
Fiona waited for him to continue.
"Just like you are not the real Her Highness…I am not the real hero." His gaze turned to the aeroplane flying to their left.
"What do you mean?"
"Will you endlessly listen to my awful Roxchean?" Fiona chuckled.
"You said that we still have a lot of time before we reach the capital, right?"
"I…I see…"
"Yes. The real heroes are the two people Allison Whittington and Wilhelm Schultz, who are flying over there. Another hero is the old man, and after him the noblewoman that helped the two people. I am only the hero after them."
"I can't believe it…"
"Are you disappointed that I am not the real hero?"
"No…I'm not. I was surprised about those two over there, but you've done so much, too.
But why are you telling me all this?"
"Miss Fiona. The people in the world believe I am a historical hero. They treat me like that. That is reality. I…I sometimes hate being a fake hero. I rather want to go back and be a normal person. But I heard your story and changed my thoughts—er, mind. Even if I am a fake hero, I am glad I am a hero. Do you know why?"
"No…why?"
"Because I have a honor of carrying this country's Her Highness to the capital to present her to every person. Because I know your secret, it will not be enough to only carry you there. While we are at it, let us make this the show to remember. I have a good idea."
"Man…"
Allison cruised slowly as she kept a keen eye on the two on the surveillance craft. Benedict said something to Fiona; Fiona flinched in surprise, and replied; then she nodded, satisfied.
Wil sat behind Allison, looking down with unending wonder at the contours of the lake. He was enjoying the flight. To his right he could see two shadows moving side-by-side down the surface of Lake Ras.
He then glanced up at the sun and pressed the talk button.
Allison looked at her watch and the clock on her instrument panel.
"That is all of my plan. How is it? The choice is up to you. Do you want to try this plan?" "Yes! I'll do it," Fiona answered immediately. Benedict nodded.
"All right. Let us succeed for certain. For Her Highness Princess Francesca, who is not in this world anymore."
"Yes!"
"That is that, and…I am happy even if this is after everything is done, but…I have a request."
"What is it?"
"Will you go out with me?" "What?"
"Let us go out together. A fake hero and a fake princess. Does it not go well together?
Before, when I wooed women, I often asked them, 'Would you like to go on an aeroplane ride?'… But I cannot say that to you anymore. I think I must think of other lines."
"What…? Yes. Let's. But are you really all right with someone like me?" "I do not want anyone but you. You are very beautiful."
"That's…the first time anyone's said that to me."
"The people of your village must have bad eyes. Or perhaps they worried that if you knew you are beautiful, you could tell them, 'I will go to the capital and become an actress'."
"Really? I always assumed they didn't want a country girl like me to embarrass them by leaving the village on my own," Fiona said abashedly.
Benedict responded, his face the picture of gravity. "You are very beautiful. May I kiss you?" "What…?"
One person watched as two people kissed inside the small surveillance craft. "This is not fair…!" Allison cried, forcing her gaze back to the front. She saw the
beautiful white mountaintops and the lake, and the clear blue sky. Her craft's engine roared and its propellers spun loudly.
"This is not fair!" Allison repeated herself. She glared to her right again. The two people were facing one another. The woman smiled, embarrassed.
Allison looked back. Wil was behind her, absently looking down at the ground.
Wil looked up and met Allison's stare.
Benedict looked forward again. The fighter craft was pulling into an acrobatic maneuver.
It broke into a sudden reverse dive, then shot back up again in a corkscrew before falling sideways at the peak.
Then, a vertical descent followed by two consecutive loops. Fiona's head turned twice as she followed the sight.
The fighter craft returned to level position and accelerated.
Each time Allison's arm—holding the control stick—smashed to the right, the craft rotated 90˚ to the right and returned to level position after four turns.
The craft ascended and descended several times, before finally joining the surveillance craft again.
"Put this on."
Fiona paused, then put on the headset.
"'Fi'?" "'Fi'?" she and Wil wondered aloud simultaneously.
Benedict answered immediately.
Allison turned to Wil. This time, Wil shrugged. Allison pressed the talk button. Benedict paused.
Whether we go on land or sky, we must not kill anyone, she says.>
"Oh!" Allison exclaimed. "Night?" Benedict wondered, frowning. Benedict's voice cut off suddenly. Allison turned, and saw that Fiona was telling him something. She saw Benedict nodding in understanding. Soon, he called back.
Allison told Benedict everything she knew about the street. It stretched from east- southeast to west-northwest, and was about 20 meters wide. The straight stretch of the road was about 100 meters in length, and lining the sides were two-story buildings and one large theater at the very end of the street, which had a wide balcony on the third floor.
She also explained that, in the capital, the wind blew in a nearly straight line from east to west. Then she informed him of landing procedures used by the Confederation Air Force.
Is that all?>
Benedict turned on the lights on the surveillance craft. The two lights on the tips of the wings and the tail light flashed on.
Benedict evaded to the right.
Wil, surprised to be called on, quickly looked into the bag he had in front of him.
Wil took a moment to think over the plan and agreed to shoot the lights. Taking off his gloves, he loaded the magazine and attached it to the gun. He mixed up the direction once, but he managed to attach the stock to the grip as well.
Allison slowly maneuvered under Benedict's plane. First, she approached the left wing from behind. Wil held the gun in his right hand and put the stock on his shoulder. The gun shook in the wind, so he put his left hand on it for support and took a deep breath.
Allison cautiously and expertly operated the controls. The distance between the two planes narrowed.
If one of the aeroplanes were to make any sudden movements, the two would crash in midair. But the gap closed without any unnecessary turbulence. Allison and Benedict concentrated solely on each other's crafts, flying with vigilance.
Wil aimed up and undid the safety.
Bang.
The crisp sound of gunfire melded into the roar of the engines. An empty shell casing flew into the air. At the same time, pieces of the broken wing light scattered toward the lake.
Allison slowly pushed the control stick forward. The fighter craft and the surveillance craft grew apart.
Allison flew under the right wing, just like before. Wil took out the light in one shot
again. high.
Wil breathed a sigh of relief, the muffler still wrapped around his face. The slide on the
gun was down fully—there were no more bullets left.
Benedict turned to Fiona. "We are ready now. Now we must commence the operation." With her right hand clenched over her chest, Fiona looked at Benedict and nodded.
Allison said. Benedict and Fiona looked out at the scene unfolding before them, past the propellers. The snow-white lake was coming to an end, and a large blue mass emerged to its left.
It was Kunst, the capital of Iks.