As they walked around their wagon, she saw the two beecraft squatting on the apron, sullen and nondescript brown with patches of yellow and white. They seemed ugly and ungainly compared to the fighters, like flying houses. Their wide horizontal blades drooped, man-sized nacelles on the tips coming within three arms of the ground on each side. A few men in red and white flight outfits stood beside the beecraft, engaged in conversation, watching the wagons’ passengers disembark.

Climbing down from the back of the next wagon in line was the Kelt and a small contingent of the palace guard; all to protect her, she realized.

She stifled a sudden urge to drop the clavicle and run into the desert.

A whistling breeze riffled little lines of sand on the asphalt, scattering grains about her feet. She looked up at the sun, shading her eyes against the brilliance.

It was a perfect day for flying. She had hoped it might be otherwise. She thought of the sanctuary of Athene Lindia, with its stone steps hot in the sun and the lapis-blue water beyond.

“Time to board,” Oresias said. “Didaskolos, assist your student, if you please.”

Demetrios offered his hand but Rhita declined, moving ahead of them with quick, small steps to show her determination.

“Ours is the machine on the right,” Jamal Atta instructed.

Oresias shaded his eyes and looked across the field to the low buildings nestled among sand hills to the south. “Are we expecting a reception?” he asked. Rhita followed his pointing finger and saw a line of distant vehicles about half a parasang from the asphalt apron.

“No,” Atta said, tensing. “We have this part of the field to ourselves.”

“Then we’d better hurry.”

Demetrios moved up behind Rhita as if to protect her. The palace guards and the Kelt joined their group at the beecraft hatchway, falling in line at Atta’s command. The military advisor cursed repeatedly under his breath, eyes flicking between the people and piles of supplies yet to be loaded and the approaching wagons.

Oresias rapped on the plastic canopy and the kybernetes opened a small window. “Get this thing off the ground first if you have to. Get her out of here if they reach us before we’re ready.”

“I’ve got a query on the radio,” the kybernetes said.

“There weren’t supposed to be any queries,” Oresias told him sharply.

“Then I don’t suppose they expect an answer,” the kybernetes replied casually. “Everybody has to be loaded two minutes before we can leave the ground. I need time to get my blades up to speed.” He snicked the window shut.