Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) (16 page)

Talia smiled and placed her hand on his cheek.  “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

His fingers closed around hers.  “Me either.”

“I’m releasing the mooring rope!” Bagley called from nearby.  “The floater is leaving, whether or not you’re on it, Talia.”

Talia scowled and moved away from Silvestri.  “Hey, Bagley,” she called back.  She hoisted her middle finger at him.  “Fuck you and your lousy wages.”

He gave her a patronising
smile.  “Feel better now?”

“Much.”

Talia and Silvestri climbed up onto the gondola, where the others were waiting, and she moved into the driver’s seat and clipped herself in, then began to examine the console. Wasting no time, she started up the engines, and they spluttered and whined, creating a cacophony within the workshop, before settling into a throbbing rhythm.  The gauges sprung into life and the entire gondola began to vibrate.  Bagley released the final rope, and Talia swivelled the engines into their vertical takeoff position, sending a tornado of dust and debris scattering across the workshop.

“All right,” she said over the din
.  “Let’s see what this thing can do.”

19

Talia lifted the dirigible clear of the
hangar, whipping her head from side to side to ensure that she was clear of the doors on each side.  The dilapidated apartments that surrounded Bagley’s workshop came into view, and in a few moments the dirigible had begun to rise above those as well.  Slowly, the expanse of Link revealed itself beyond.

The dirigible began to tip, casting noticeably to one side like a sinking ship.

“What’s going on?” Gernot screamed behind her.

“Calm down,” she said, her eyes never leaving the controls.  “The left engine isn’t giving as much thrust as the right.  I’m on it.”

She manipulated the controls, compensating for the imbalance, and gradually the airship began to level off.  Still rising, Talia adjusted the angle of the engines and they began to edge outward, skimming over rooftops and the streets of Link below.

“We’ve got company down there,” Roman said, pointing at something over the edge of the gondola.  “Three guys on a rooftop.”

“They’re pointing a rifle at us,” Silvestri added.

“Can they shoot us down in this thing?” Gernot said, alarmed.

“Sure, if they have a big enough gun,” Talia muttered.  “Heading due east.  Hang on.”

She gripped the joystick that controlled pitch and yaw and directed it smoothly to the right, suppressing the urge to jerk at it more sharply.  Although she wanted to make herself a harder target for whoever was down there, she also did not want to overtax the dirigible before she’d learned what it could do.

In reality, there was no way she could dodge bullets in a slow moving craft such as this.  They were either going to make the shot, or they weren’t.

Distantly, she heard the report of a firearm, then another, but there were no changes to her instrumentation readings, no sound of lead hitting the envelope, which meant they’d most likely escaped unscathed.

“Why the hell are they shooting at us?” Gernot said.

“Maybe they think we’re rich,” Silvestri said.  “Or that we’re carrying supplies.”

“Or maybe they’re just bored,” Roman added.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Talia said.  “We’ve gained enough altitude to get clear.  It would take a miracle to hit us from here.”

She tried to forget about those below as she concentrated on keeping the dirigible level and on course.  This was not an easy job at the best of times.  The ship was, in many ways, like a cork bobbing in the ocean.  Air pockets, wind and weather continually nagged at the controls, keeping the dirigible in a constant state of flux.  She needed to adapt on a moment-to-moment basis, utilising her intuition as much as the skills she’d learned when first piloting craft such as this.

Realising they needed yet more altitude, she flipped a switch and discharged air from the fore and aft ballonets.  After a quick check of her instrumentation, she looked out at the horizon to gather her bearings again.

It was then that she noticed someone had sat down in the co-pilot’s seat next to her.  It was the dark-haired bodyguard, Norrey.

“You look like you can handle this thing after all,” he said appreciatively.

“I’m a bit rusty, but I’ll make it work,” Talia said distractedly.

“Why do I hear air rushing out?  Is that the leak Bagley was talking about?”

“No.  It’s part of the operation of the dirigible.  The air in the ballonets is heavier than the gas inside the envelope.  You let it out, you go higher.  You suck it in, you go lower.”

“But this leak, it will bring the airship down eventually, yes?”

“Listen, man.  No offense, but I need to concentrate on what I’m doing here.  I promise that, if we’re going to crash, you’ll be the first to know.”

Norrey gave her a patient smile, then nodded.  “Of course.”

He did not leave the co-pilot’s chair, however, preferring to sit there and stare out at the sky in a relaxed fashion, like he was enjoying a scenic tour.

Talia ignored him and kept her hands on the controls.

Silvestri leaned over the edge of the gondola railing, looking out upon the city of Link for the last time.  Already, the massive column of the Reach was beginning to dwindle, enveloped in
the smoke and
haze that surrounded the city.  In the distance he could see two other dirigibles drifting away from the chaos, their rounded envelopes becoming more indistinct by the second.

“Quite a view, huh?” he said amiably to Gernot, who was hunched nearby, poring over something on his holophone.

“Fuck the view.  I’d rather be on the ground.”  He glanced over to where Talia sat at the controls.  “How long is this going to take, anyway?”

“To get to Gardon?  A few hours, depending on how fast Talia can make this thing crank.”

“Good.  The sooner the better.”

Silvestri squatted down beside him.  “You have family there, you said?  In Gardon?”

“Yeah.”  Gernot scratched at his face irritably, his tone suggesting he was not in the mood for idle chat, but Silvestri pushed on.

“It was a nice place, back in the day.”

Gernot glanced across at his white-haired bodyguard, who was watching them from the other side of the gondola, then back at Silvestri.

“You’ve been there?”

“Yes.  I came from the east, originally.”

“Oh yeah?  Whereabouts?”

“A long way east.  Past the wastes.  But I came through Gardon, spent some time there.  Good people.”

Gernot shrugged.  “Good enough.”

“Do you know Old M
an Donohoe?  Lives out past the windmill on the southern highway.”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“I worked for him for a couple months, hauling irrigation around.  Helped him dig a new well, too.”  Silvestri smiled fondly.  “That was a long time ago.  I guess he’d be gone by now.”

“Yeah, probably.”  Gernot put the holophone away and nodded at Roman, who was peering out over the railing nearby.  “That your boy?”

Silvestri was a little taken aback by the question.  “No.  Just a friend.”

“Really?  I thought the three of you looked like you were together.  A family, like.”

“No,” Silvestri said, embarrassed.  “Just three people caught up in a situation together.”

“Fair enough,” Gernot said.  He got up.  “Kolos!” he shouted to the white-haired bodyguard.  “We need to talk.”

The two of them met on the far side of the gondola, discussing something in private, and Silvestri glanced across at Roman.  After a moment he turned to watch Talia.  The conversation with Gernot had stirred something within him.  He couldn’t deny that he’d developed feelings for his companions – especially Talia – since they’d been together.  He couldn’t exactly put his finger on the reasons why.  Perhaps their bond had been forged out of the intense struggle in which they’d found themselves this past week, during which time they had clung to each other as they’d fought against the overwhelming odds that had been stacked against them.  Or perhaps it was simply that, as the leader of Skybreach, he had developed a certain protectiveness in regard to those under him.

Skybreach
.  The word left a sour taste in his mouth.  Looking around the Gondola, he realised that this was all that was left – Roman, Talia and himself.  The others had been killed, had deserted the group, or simply lost faith.

Was that because of his leadership, or was he being too hard on himself?  Had this simply been an impossible task to begin with?

Emil, the leader before him, had failed in spectacular fashion, practically losing his mind in the end.  In hindsight, Silvestri hadn’t done much better.

Between the droning white noise of the engines and the gentle undulation of the dirigible, the events of the past twenty-four hours caught up with him, and Silvestri drifted off to sleep.

A sharp grinding noise brought Silvestri back to consciousness, and a moment later he was on his feet.  Nearby, Roman was rousing himself from sleep as well, his black hair matted to one side.  He stumbled forward, and Silvestri reached out to steady him.

“What’s going on?” Roman cried.

Silvestri looked to the pilot’s seat, where Talia was wrestling with the controls.

“Come on,” he said, assisting the boy forward.  Gernot and his men had already assembled around Talia, and Gernot was yelling something in her ear.

“Just calm down, will you?” she shouted, pulling on a lever and tugging at the joystick on the control panel.  “We’re not going to fall out of the sky just yet.”

“What is it, Talia?” Silvestri said.

“That cruddy left engine just shat itself.  She’s twisting like a bitch
now
.”  Talia grunted, pulling on the joystick again.  The dirigible dipped alarmingly and Silvestri was forced to reach out to a nearby rope to steady himself.

“But you can handle it, right?” he yelled over the noise of the screaming engine.

“By itself, yes, but we’ve also lost a lot of our buoyancy due to that goddamn leak over the past hour.”

“Past hour?” Silvestri said.  He looked around, confused, and realised that Link was nowhere to be found.  The lowlands stretched out in every direction as far as the eye could see.  He’d been asleep longer than he’d realised.

“I’m going to find a place to put her down,” Talia shouted as the whining increased in pitch.  “Somewhere over–”

There was a loud bang, and the gondola shook sickeningly, sending the men lurching to one side.  Talia, who had been strapped into the pilot’s seat, was able to somehow hang onto the controls.

“The engine!” Gernot screamed, pointing in horror at the ruined wad of machinery spewing smoke on the side of the dirigible.  “What the fuck happened?”

“It’s toast,” Silvestri said.  He leaned down toward Talia.  “Talia, we lost the engine.”

“Yeah, and I think the explosion might have damaged the envelope even further
,” Talia said, gritting her teeth.  “We’re losing pressure faster than before.”

The dirigible pitched downward, and Silvestri saw the yellow and brown soil of the lowlands far below.