The Gender End by Bella Forrest (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📕

spot supporting her. “We’re not going to accomplish anything with a gun held on us,” Kathryn announced softly.

“I’d agree with you,” I replied coolly, “but there are two of you, and Belinda is much bigger than I am, and uninjured. I’m not certain I can trust you enough to work with you, but I need your help to repair the ship and get us back home.”

“It seems you have an important decision to make,” said Belinda, helping Kathryn to move forward so she could peer out the bubble window that made up the nose of the cockpit.

“Well, she’d better make it soon,” whispered Kathryn, and I focused on her, noting her wide eyes and stiff spine. “Because I think I’d rather take the bullet than fly into that.”

I stepped forward, keeping my gun trained on them both, and peered through the dark window, searching for the familiar sight of stars. They hung just as normal in the top half of the sky, but on the horizon, barely visible in the moonlight, a swirling black and gray wall of storm clouds in the distance blotted out the stars, growing larger as we hurtled toward it.

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3

Violet

We were soaring toward a cloud bank. It was still far away, but lightning flashed behind it, and the ominous clouds seemed swollen and turbulent, as if their thin mass were barely containing the storm raging within. Without the use of most of the instruments, not to mention the ability to control the aircraft, we would be completely unable to avoid any solid formation obscured by the storm, with no way to even tell there was an obstacle until the heloship hit it. Or lightning struck it. Or the violent winds tore it apart.

My heart thudded against my ribs, once, twice, even a third time, before my mind kicked itself awake, pushing through the uncertainty that had gained temporary control over my body. I looked at Kathryn and Belinda, and saw they were both looking at me. It took me another heartbeat to realize why.

The gun. Of course—it was ridiculous to think we could work together as long as they perceived I held the power. I looked down at it and then back at the pilot. “What do we do?” I asked as I ejected the magazine onto the floor and pulled back the slide to release the round in the chamber. The bullet and clip clattered to the floor, and I doubled over to pick them up. “You keep the bullets,” I muttered, pushing them into Belinda’s hands as I moved past her, shoving the now-useless gun into my pants. I still had the backup stash in the bathroom, so if worst came to worst, I could still resort to violence—right now it was merely a gesture. Although, from the gleam in Belinda’s eyes, I knew she was considering taking the gun and the power, right now.

Unfortunately for her, we didn’t have time for that. I looked over at Kathryn, who had gone back to staring frozenly out the window. “HEY!” I shouted, stomping loudly on the floor. Kathryn whipped her head back round to look at me. “We need to get this thing out of the way of that storm. You’re the pilot. What. Do I. Do?”

Her terrified eyes blinked, and she took a deep breath, seemingly pulling herself together. “Right,” she said, her gaze going back to the bubble window and the wall of storm clouds looming ever closer, her tongue darting out to swipe at her dry lips. “Right,” she repeated, her eyes tracing the lines of damage.

“There’s a panel there,” she said, pointing to just behind where her uprooted seat used to be. The panel was clearly delineated in the floor, with some sort of chrome around the edges and a half-ring handle sitting on its side in a slotted space, so it lay evenly on the floor.

I slipped my fingers under the ring, prying it up so I could get a better grip. At the same time, Kathryn began to speak. Even though her voice was loud, her words seemed more directed at herself. “No displays. The column is heavy, indicating loss of hydraulic fluids. No response in over half the controls. How’s it coming on that panel?”

Grunting, I pulled at it with my left arm, which was considerably weaker than my right, and began to lift the dense panel up, coming around it so that I was directly behind it and pulling. “It’s been better! Belinda!”

Belinda was still standing there, her hands loosely clutching the magazine and single bullet I had handed her. “What’s the point?” she asked numbly, her brown eyes staring out the window. “We’re in The Outlands. Nothing ever comes back from The Outlands. We’re screwed.”

“Excellent defeat story, but I’m shooting for a happier ending. So get your butt over here and help me. RIGHT. NOW!” I wasn’t sure how I managed it, but for an instant, my voice sounded exactly like Ms. Dale’s—firm, uncompromising, and filled with an edge of superiority that surprised even me. It seemed to jolt Belinda from the fugue she had fallen into, and she moved toward me, a bit robotically.

I almost sagged in relief as she took some of the paneled door’s weight from me. We heaved it over and looked down into the cavity we had opened up. Four blue glowing cables as thick as my wrist ran through it, held in by steel brackets. Dozens of other wires shot off from them, and an array of buttons, levers, and switches decorated all four sides.

Belinda and I exchanged looks, and she gave me a wide-eyed head shake. “This wasn’t in the field manual,” she said shakily.

“It’s open,” I shouted at Kathryn, ignoring Belinda, dropping to my belly and pointing over at where I had left the toolkit earlier—on the holotable in the center of the command deck. Belinda stood laboriously with a defeated sigh, but went to fetch it as Kathryn turned and examined it.

“Pull the red wires, and