The Gender Game 5: The Gender Fall(59)

In response, the camera angle shifted until it was pointed at a small window. A smile grew on my face as I raised my right hand, cast and all, and waved at the drone I could just see, a flicker in the dark, through the thin glass. Caught by the drone’s front-mounted camera, my actions were mirrored on the screen in real time. The drone’s design was sleek, not entirely unlike a heloship on a much smaller scale—about three feet in length and two feet in width. It stood a foot and a half when set on the ground, and was painted a matte black. The conical nose sloped back wider into the first set of wings, branches with propellers set in them at an eight-inch distance. The wings drew back in at a right angle, ending as they connected to the rectangular body. Another set of wings with inset propellers sat behind the first, probably eight to twelve inches away. It looked like an “H”, but with the connecting line in the middle jutting out farther on either side.

I lowered my hand and used my left thumb to click one of the dials, changing the camera to the one mounted on the drone’s belly. I then flipped a switch, activating night vision. Immediately the screen glowed a neon green, and I could see the ground just below where the drone was hovering.

I used my index and middle finger to pull the craft up and away from the window, while my ring finger and pinky controlled the turn. Once it had spun in a tidy circle, I relaxed my smallest digits and used my index to press it forward, while my middle finger controlled the height. I flew a slow loop around our camp beside the road to the farmhouse, over the tents, noting the placement of our guards and facilities.

The drone was remarkable. Its engines were whisper-soft, and the controls were sensitive to miniscule movements, yet somehow fairly intuitive. Piloting required a certain amount of dexterity, but remained mostly user-friendly, especially since the sensitivity of the controls could be adjusted. I smiled as I thought of Thomas’ demonstration earlier that evening, which had resulted in the drone getting lodged in a tree, clicking angrily.

It had been two hours since Viggo and Owen had departed, and while I knew I should have been resting, I had instead taken the time to practice my flying with one of the spare drones from the barn. I wanted to make sure I had a complete understanding of all the controls and features. It was as compulsive a need to me as checking a gun for ammunition or cracking my neck before a fistfight.

Besides, there were too many unknowns on this mission to risk Viggo and Owen’s lives with my inexperience with the equipment. Not that anyone was an expert on drones right now, of course, but that didn’t give me license to relax. I was too edgy to rest anyway. Watching Viggo leave today had been difficult, and even though I was definitely part of the mission, it wasn’t the same as being physically there with them. On the other hand, the moment wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be—the tension seemed to exist no matter which end I was on. This tension was actually almost worse, because if anything went wrong, I was literally too far away to do anything about it. I was certain Thomas felt the opposite, while Ms. Dale just rolled with the punches one way or the other.

A sharp rap on the door jolted my attention from the screen, and I flicked another switch, putting the craft in a locked holding pattern, before looking up. The woman herself stood in the doorway, her brown eyes on me. “They’ve arrived at the destination,” Ms. Dale announced with a nod. “They’re unboxing the drone now.”

“Give me one second,” I said, and she nodded and left. I quickly adjusted the controls and flew the drone toward the barn, landing it right outside one of the doors. Powering off the remote, I slid it from my lap—it was too heavy and awkward for me to lift with my cast—and then stood up.

I moved down the hallway, through the dining room and kitchen area, stepping into a room on the opposite side. The strange room took up the width of the house on this side and was clearly a trophy room of sorts. Animal heads were mounted on the wall, while furs stretched over the mismatched chairs sitting near the fireplace opposite the door. A sofa running along the inner wall also had a few dark brown furs draped over it. I wasn’t sure what kind of animal the skins were from, but if I’d had to guess, I would have said bear.

In this room, Ms. Dale and Thomas had set up a long, collapsible table along the rear wall of the house, and they’d carried in several screens and computers while I was tinkering with the drone. I had offered to help, but Ms. Dale had waved me off, insisting my time would be better spent resting or practicing. As I entered, Ms. Dale was leaning over Thomas, going over a few of the pictures once more, and neither seemed to notice me at first.