We were using some of our camp’s precious electricity for this mission. Since I’d been awake, I’d learned the farmhouse had been off the grid when Ms. Dale had found it, but she’d picked it partially for the old generator in the basement. Thomas and some of the refugees had managed to patch it up, and while they’d also brought several smaller, state-of-the-art generators from Ashabee’s stash, it would be easy to max them out for non-emergency situations.
Besides, Ms. Dale and Thomas had both insisted keeping the lights off made us much less of a target at night in case another heloship came by. Thus, the camp had fire-cooked soup and tea heated on the wood stove in the kitchen, hand-washed laundry with hand-pumped water; the makeshift sickbay, the handhelds that needed charging, and Thomas’s spying equipment were the only things we were allowed to use power for. It was vital for this mission, especially for staying connected to our crew—and since the drones charged electrically as well, I was insanely grateful we had it.
I moved over to a ladder-back chair pulled out in front of the table, the familiar remote control set up in front of it. Sitting down, I looked over to where Thomas and Ms. Dale were still softly speaking and cleared my throat. Almost as one, they turned toward me.
“Good,” Ms. Dale said, straightening up, as though I had announced myself. “Viggo just let me know the drone is out of the box. Here.” She handed me a gray case, and I opened it up, pulling out the headset and earbud that would allow me to communicate with Viggo and Owen. Unlike the previous missions we had used subvocalizers on, there weren’t any separate channels set up, which meant everything would be heard by everyone. Ms. Dale and Thomas were already geared up in simple headsets with microphones; since the three of us were in a secure location, we wouldn’t need to use the subvocalizers, and would be patching our regular voices into Owen and Viggo’s ears through these while they communicated to us via subvocalizers, the devices scanning their vocal cords and reconstructing the sounds they would make in exacting detail.
I pushed the earbud into my ear and pressed the small button on the base. Immediately I heard Viggo’s voice coming through the line, probably speaking to Ms. Dale.
—set up the drone about fifty yards from the base, beyond the tree line. Getting ready to activate, advise when Violet is ready.
“I’m here,” I said into the headset’s mic, smiling despite myself as I heard his voice.
Good, came Viggo’s reply. We’ll power up the drone now.
“Go ahead.” I clicked on the remote and looked up at the drone’s view screen, which Thomas had wired to also display on the television across from me. The screen flickered, filled with darkness; I turned on the camera on the drone’s belly and flipped the switch to night vision. Immediately, green and black filled the screen, and I found myself looking at tree trunks and grass. “Back away from the drone,” I ordered as I slid my fingers into the metal tubes.
We’re clear, announced Owen, and I immediately moved my middle finger up, causing the drone to rise up into the air. I kept the speed slow, remembering the drone’s engines would be stiff until they warmed up. A small red proximity alarm flashed on the screen, and I used my thumb to quickly switch the view to the nose camera, adjusting the drone until it was pointed upward. A large branch cut across my path, so I adjusted the course, weaving slowly in and out of the forest canopy until I cleared the tops of the trees.
Reading the compass on the display, I manipulated the tubes again, angling the drone toward the labor camp. A series of bright white lights began to appear, set on tall, thin poles barely visible in their own light—I blinked, momentarily turning away from the screen and switching to the drone’s low-level light setting as the camera flared with green, the night vision setting taking in far too much light. Recovered, I moved toward the bright balls, knowing those were the lights that illuminated the camp.
I kept the drone fifty feet off the ground, and as I approached the chain link fence, away from low-hanging trees, I switched over to the belly camera, knowing the proximity sensors would pick anything up before I hit it, provided I wasn’t moving too fast. At this height, the airspace above the camp would be clear enough, anyway. We had almost the whole night before daylight made the mission infeasible, so I was confident we could get through our recon.
Angling for the closest corner of the fence, I positioned the drone, hovered it, and looked over at Thomas. Sitting next to him in the farmhouse felt surreal; my eyes already strayed back to the screen, as though what was happening out there was more real than this room. “Ready for recon,” I informed the small man, and everybody in my company. He nodded, his fingers flying over the computer.