Horse had been a fighter pilot, back in the days of biplanes held together by string and prayers. He had fought in the Glacier War and was credited with ten kills, though he only accepted seven of them. Either figure made him the highest scoring veteran of the conflict still flying. Somewhere along the line he had foregone his given name and started going by his call sign, even after starting an air courier service upon discharge. After growing fat and happy on the profits he had allowed the company to be integrated with the Air Army as the supply division, as long as he could fly active service. The lure of battle took him to supply drops and spy landings, but today he was a passenger carrier to the chosen crews of Wasp squadron 3.
Reed took the co-pilot’s seat when it was offered. “Why not take your planes with you?” Horse enquired as he lined up along the main runway.
“Some younger crews are being rotated in, to get experience in the mountains. Maybe combat, the way events are progressing.”
“There is definitely going to be combat. Something is coming I can tell you. It is only a little activity at each of my stops, but it all adds up.”
“You do not gossip out of town about this, I hope.”
Horse guffawed as he throttled up. “I never get out of town. Everyone I know, eat with, drink with or sleep with serves in some way. Have you clipped that luscious new bombardier of yours yet? A nice looking one, her, none too fat, but nicely rounded.” They pulled off the ground, banked away from the mountains and began to climb.
“Have you clipped your co-pilot? Larin is not on this flight, I notice.”
“Clipped her and promised to her. The medics have her off flying for a while, just in case.”
Reed considered this for a while. “There is a little Horse on the way?”
“The first. Well, the first that I know of. I liberated a lot more than just Cora in the Glacier War, if you understand me.”