CHAPTER 74
Red Canyon Before Dawn
AVERY
The final-stage briefing began at three forty-five under red emergency lights.
Marisol had disabled the bright overheads to preserve night vision. Maps covered the walls. The canyon corridor appeared on three screens: terrain, weather, and road access. Every route narrowed after the final mesa.
Avery stood beside Nolan without touching him.
Sam led the team briefing. “Primary scoring layer is northwest between nine hundred and twelve hundred feet. Lower canyon flow is variable east to southeast. Windline confidence drops below fifty percent after the mesa because station coverage ends.”
Kira traced the chase route. “North access reaches the recovery valley. South road reaches the lower shelf but crosses a dry wash. County rescue knows both.”
Priya checked First Light’s repair record. “Envelope clear. Fuel system clear. Windline mount secure.”
Nolan asked, “Decision point?”
Avery marked the final mesa. “If we are not established in the upper northwest layer before crossing, we descend to the recovery valley. After crossing, we do not descend into the canyon unless responding to an emergency or landing becomes necessary.”
“Emergency landing sites?”
“South shelf, east wash, and two small ranch fields. All firm, uneven, no mapped power lines. Visual verification required.”
Sam looked at both of them. “Race position?”
“Second,” Avery said.
“What does that change?”
“Nothing about limits,” Nolan replied.
Sam nodded.
The team had practiced this answer for thirty days. The final stage would test whether it remained true when the prize was near enough to imagine.
After the briefing, Avery went outside. Balloons lay across the plateau like sleeping color. Stars remained visible above the canyon. Smoke had cleared overnight, leaving cold air and a faint burned smell.
Nolan joined her.
“Do you want me to leave?” he asked.
“No.”
They stood together.
Avery had not asked for the relationship back. Nolan had not pressed. Their work had become honest again before their love did.
“What are you afraid of?” she asked.
“The final landing,” he said. “The mayday we cannot reach. The moment I believe winning makes one more minute reasonable.”
Avery nodded. “I am afraid the system will fail publicly. That I will choose the safe route and spend years wondering whether fear cost the workshop its best chance.”
“What does the evidence say?”
“That one race result is not the business.”
“What do you believe?”
She looked at First Light. “Not always that.”
Nolan did not reassure her.
Avery continued. “If something happens in the basket, we use roles. No relationship conversation. No trying to prove trust by agreeing.”
“Agreed.”
“If we must choose between score and aid?”
“We aid.”
“Even if another crew is responding?”
“We assess proximity and need. No heroics. No unnecessary interference.”
“Good.”
Avery looked at him. “And after?”
“After, we tell the truth about whatever we chose.”
He held out his hand, not as a romantic request but as crew confirmation.
She took it.
Behind them, the first inflation fans started. The plateau filled with low mechanical sound.
Avery released his hand and walked toward First Light.
Before the day ended, they would lose the race, help save three people, and discover that the future they wanted did not require a podium.
For now, they had only the next decision.