“Day forty-three,” the man said. His voice was calm, almost bored. “The faculty has grounded me twice. Deleted my flight logs. They say the wind shear over Old Tbilisi is too unpredictable. They say my wing design violates three safety protocols.”
Home.
Nika’s hands trembled. He checked the server logs. The IP address for the message didn’t resolve. It wasn’t IPv4 or IPv6. It was a string of numbers that matched the coordinates of the upper troposphere above the Georgian Military Highway. icarus.edu.ge
His pulse quickened.
“The fall is not the punishment. The fall is the lesson.” “Day forty-three,” the man said
He laughed. Too easy. Too tragic .