“I need to ask you a few questions about what happened here.” He had a deep voice and he spoke just a little too slowly, as though he were just waking up from a deep sleep, or as though he didn’t find the burning airfield particularly interesting.
“Uhm.” Taziri looked away, her eyes itching. She looked back at him, a huge thick-necked man with a sleepy-eyed squint. Since when are men promoted above captain? He must be part of some special transfer program with the army. “Can it wait until tomorrow? I’d really like to go home to my family right now.”
“I’ll get you home as soon as I can.”
She swallowed and nodded. “All right, sir.”
Chapter 2. Syfax
The major frowned at the aviator. She looked like hell. Exhausted, sweaty, red-eyed. Better keep it short and simple before she gets all loopy on me. “We’ve identified the man who attacked you as Medur Hamuy, personal bodyguard to Ambassador Barika Chaou. Do you know either of them?”
Taziri stared past him at the hangar. “No, I don’t.”
“Apparently, they were regular passengers to Espana. Spent a lot of time on trains, steamers, and airships. You ever fly them around?”
Taziri blinked up at him. “No, Espana is the Crake ’s usual run. Isoke and I do the eastern route. Ikosim, Hippo, and Carthage. The Numidian coast.”
“I see.” Syfax glared at the hundreds of people trampling his crime scene. Where the hell is Kenan? Lazy kid.
“Was it the Grebe or the Crake?”
Syfax turned back to the aviator. “What was that?”
“Which ship exploded, sir?”
“Oh. It was the Gilded Grebe. The Copper Crake isn’t here.”
Taziri said, “She should be. The Crake was scheduled to leave in the morning. It was heading back north to Espana, I think.”
Syfax frowned. “Well, it’s not here now.” He glanced left and saw his aide jogging toward him. Corporal Kenan Agyeman barely came up to the major’s shoulder, he had arms like kindling, and he grinned too much. He was grinning now. Syfax turned his back to the aviator and said in a low voice, “Where the hell have you been?”
“Helping the medics, sir.”
“Oh, come on, kid, we talked about this,” Syfax said. “Stick to the job or the general’ll have you back on the frontier guarding rocks by the end of the day.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So what do you have?”
Kenan held out some papers. “Report from Lady Damya’s office. Looks like Ambassador Chaou didn’t show at dinner tonight. No one’s seen her in several hours. And a telegram from Zili. The watchtower just sighted an airship heading south along the coast, but there wasn’t anything scheduled to pass that way tonight.”
“Might be our missing Crake.” The major scanned the reports. “How did you get these if you were helping the medics?”
Kenan pointed across the field. “Well, the telegraph office is right next to the rail station and they still have wounded on the platform there so I thought I should-”
“Kid! I don’t care. Just don’t do it again. Go check on Hamuy. He’s your only priority right now.” Syfax sighed and turned back to the aviator.
Taziri was staring across the airfield. She said, “What happened at the train station?”
Crap, she doesn’t know. Syfax thumbed his nose and said, “About ten minutes before the Grebe exploded, one of the steam engines ruptured in the station. We’ve got passenger cars on their side, chunks of metal everywhere, and twisted up rails. Lots of wounded, mostly people waiting for the eight-fifteen to Port Chellah. No real evidence yet, but I’m looking forward to asking our new prisoner all about it.”
“Lots of wounded?” Taziri continued to stare at the train station roof just visible beyond the airfield fence and hedge wall.
“Lieutenant Ohana.” Syfax leaned forward to catch her attention. “My aide says Ambassador Chaou’s disappeared and we found your missing airship heading south over Zili. So I’m guessing it’s not heading to Espana.” He glanced to the northern sea sparkling in the darkness beyond the train station and the docks at the bottom of the hill. “Any idea where it might be going?”
Taziri shook her head. “If they stick to the coast, then maybe to Port Chellah or Maroqez. I’m sorry. I really couldn’t guess where the Crake is going.”
“But Hamuy might.”
“Hamuy. So, he’s all right?” Taziri’s gloved hands curled into fists.
“Yeah, I’ll be interrogating him soon.” Over her head, Syfax spotted a small commotion by the airfield gates around a pale little man in a gray coat and hat. “Who’s that?”
Taziri looked over her shoulder. “Oh. Our passenger from Carthage. Mine and Isoke’s, I mean. I suppose he saw the fire. We were just stopping here for the night. We’re scheduled to take him to Orossa in the morning.”
“Well, he’s gonna be delayed.” Syfax glanced down at the small pad in his hand. One airship destroyed, one missing, and the surviving captain is in the hospital. Great. “ Ohana, it says here you’re an engineer, but you’re also a qualified pilot, right?”
“What?” The woman looked up at him as though he’d just grown a third eye. “I mean, yes, I am. Why?”
“I’m going after the Copper Crake. Right now. With the station wrecked, the trains can’t get from the sheds out onto the main lines. I’ll wire the marshals in Port Chellah to be on the lookout, but that airship can go anywhere, so I’m commandeering the Halcyon. And you’ll be flying her.”
“I will?” Taziri’s eyes darted around the field at the firefighters, the engines, the piles of debris. She glanced down at her left hand and began rubbing her fingers. “I’ve never made a solo flight, sir. I’m sure there’s somebody else better qualified.”
Syfax frowned at the burned patch of her sleeve. Nah, the medics cleared her, she’s just being fidgety. Come on lady, we don’t have time for this. “Listen, there isn’t anybody else. The Crake’ s crew is flying south and the crew of the Grebe died in that hangar tonight with the ground crew. Look, if you can’t fly the Halcyon, then I’ll just have to get one of my people do it. Kenan’s got some training.”
“No, I’ll do it,” Taziri said quickly. She turned to look up at the city, scanning the grid of roads and roofs. “Right now?”
“Right now.” Syfax gestured toward the Halcyon.
“Can one of your people tell my husband where I am?”
“Sure.” Syfax waved a gray-uniformed police officer forward to collect the address and message.
Taziri gave her the information, then turned and walked woodenly across the grass toward the airship, casting brief glances back toward the street.
Syfax followed her gaze up and across the city, but all he saw were strings of tiny lights twinkling like stars as the last wisps of smoke vanished into the night sky. The electric lights faded quickly and the gas lamps flickered to life, trading one shade of amber light for another.
“Excuse me? Excuse me! What is going on here?” demanded a shrill male voice.
Syfax intercepted the old man in the gray coat and hat. “Crime scene. You’ll have to leave.”
“Crime scene!” The man swerved around the major. “What happened here? Was anyone hurt?”
Taziri said, “Yes.”
“Well, I am a doctor, you know. Where am I needed?”
Syfax raised an eyebrow. “A doctor? Really?”
“Yes. Evander of Athens, physician and surgeon.”
A Hellan doctor? Better than nothing. “Great, doc, I’ve got a patient for you.” Syfax clamped a strong hand on the doctor’s shoulder and steered him to a nearby stretcher surrounded by armed men. “He was burned and beaten. Can you fix him up?”
Evander knelt by the body and began probing inside the shredded jacket and shirt where some crumpled rags and gauze fluttered in the wind. “This is some nice field world. Very nice. Tell me, exactly how much lard did you slather on this man before you tried stitching him back together like an old shoe
? What is this, twine?” He glared up at the officers gathered around him.
Kenan winced and looked away.
“Doc, I need to speak to this man as soon as possible.” Syfax knelt beside him. “Can you wake him up?”
“If you wish to hear a great deal of screaming, then yes, yes I can.” The Hellan nodded seriously. “These burns are extensive. I will need to treat them before I even try to wake him. The pain would be unbearable. The shock could even stop his heart.”
Syfax thumbed his nose and frowned. “Then we’ll take him with us and talk to him later. And you too, doc.”
“With you? Where? What’s going on here?” Evander frowned. “I was summoned to your capital by Her Highness, the queen herself. We are leaving first thing in the morning. I’m not going anywhere but Orossa. The matter is quite urgent, which is the only reason why I’m traveling in these damned flying ships.”
“Well, your airship is coming with me and there won’t be a train to Orossa any time soon, so you can come with me now or go find yourself a mule.” Syfax stepped back from the crowd around Hamuy and raised his voice. “This is a matter of national security, and we are wasting time. Kenan!”
The corporal jogged forward.
“Get the prisoner onto the airship. Ohana, prep for takeoff. Doc, I’d like you on board, but I can’t order you to. You can come with us or go the old fashioned way. It should only take a week or so.”
“A week? The old fashioned way? I don’t have time for any of that.” The little man sputtered under his breath in Hellan, and then snapped, “If I it means getting to the capital any quicker, then I’ll come with you.”
Syfax wasn’t paying attention. Of course he’s coming with us. He watched Kenan struggle with the unconscious Hamuy for a moment, then reached down and helped haul the body across the field and through the narrow door of the Halcyon ’s gondola.
Dark wood panels and dark brass trim lined the edges of the narrow cabin with tiny electric lights gleaming and reflecting in every little nook and corner. They dumped Hamuy on the hard deck with a thump as the doctor shuffled in behind them and slid back onto one of the upholstered benches in the rear of the cabin.
And how are you doing, little lady? Syfax stared at the back of the woman’s head in the pilot’s seat. Taziri wasn’t moving. The lieutenant sat with one hand on the throttle and one on the flight stick, feet flat on the pedals. A faint hum ran through the cabin, but no steam engine huffed and no heat rolled off the rear wall. Aw crap, she’s a zombie.
Syfax stepped over Hamuy and leaned his head into the cockpit. “We’re ready to go whenever you are, lieutenant.”
“I’m ready. We’ll be lifting off on my mark,” she said. The men outside lashed the lines to the Halcyon ’s outer rails and jogged away. Taziri settled back into the seat and flexed the pedals, rotating the forward propellers back and forth just outside the cockpit windows. She wrapped her scarf loosely over her mouth and nose with one hand as she flipped a few switches on the engineer’s station with the other. Then she angled the propellers down and eased the throttle forward. “Mark.”
As the grass lay down in rippling waves behind the wash of the propellers, the world dropped out from beneath the ship and the bright chaos of the airfield shrank and vanished amidst the countless tiny lights of Tingis. Syfax glanced from the dozens of wavering needles in the gauges to the silk tell-tales flapping outside the cabin, and let his feet feel for the tremors in the hull as the wind buffeted and whirled around the airship. Smooth ride. Maybe she’s going to be all right after all.
Taziri dimmed the overhead cockpit lights, leaving only the instruments glowing, and their eyes began to adjust to the darkness. The compass needle in front of her spun lazily. “Major, we’re coming about to proceed south to Zili.”
“Good. Get this thing up to full speed and keep an eye out for the Copper Crake.”
Taziri nodded and eased the throttles forward. Syfax stepped carefully back into the cabin, one hand always gripping the overhead rails for balance. The floor shuddered and shifted ever so slightly with the wind and the irregular surges from the engines.
“Now.” The old Hellan reached under his seat and pulled out a black leather bag. “Let’s see about this wretch.” He knelt beside Hamuy and began pulling out his supplies. “I can treat the burns, somewhat. He’ll be horribly disfigured, but he may live. Maybe. The bruises are ugly too. We can assume a concussion, at least.”
“When can I talk to him?” Syfax peered down at them.
The doctor rolled up his sleeves. “Ask me again in an hour.”
Syfax caught Kenan’s eye and pointed at him to stay with the doctor. Then the major returned to the cockpit and squeezed into the empty engineer’s seat. The glowing needles on the console shivered behind their glass faces and the tools stowed in the netting swung silently overhead. “This must be the quietest airship I’ve ever been on.”
“We hear that a lot.” Taziri glanced at him. “Please don’t touch anything, sir.”
He grunted and took his arm off the console. “Quick to launch, too.”
Taziri nodded. “Major, if you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is the plan? Even if we find the Copper Crake, I can’t force them to land.”
“I know. That’s why I only brought one man with me.” Syfax stared out through the wide windows at the perfect blackness outside. The cockpit lights were just bright enough to keep his eyes from focusing on whatever lay below them. “We’re just backup at this point. I’m counting on the police in Port Chellah to spot the Crake and intercept the ambassador.”
“Do you think the ambassador was kidnapped?”
“Maybe. Maybe Hamuy turned on her. Or maybe he was following her orders. Too early to say, really. Blowing up a few engines and killing a bunch of passengers is a good way to scare people, keep them from traveling, that sort of thing. Standard terror tactic these days. We had something similar down in Acra a few months ago. Pastoral extremists.”
Taziri looked up to her right at the small mirror mounted on the wall where she could see the cabin behind her. “Back in the hangar, he didn’t even say anything.”
Syfax nodded slowly. Here it comes.
“He just walked up to her and stabbed her. He didn’t even hesitate. He just stabbed her. She wasn’t even armed.” Taziri took a long, deep breath and exhaled against her scarf. “You hear about these things happening in Persia or Songhai. But it doesn’t happen here. Not even in the riots. Stabbing a woman in the face? You don’t see that. You don’t even hear about that. Ever.”
“I know.”
“I’m sure you do, major.” She looked back at him.
“Listen, I want you to put Hamuy out of your mind, Ohana.”
“Out of…?” Her hands shook above the controls for a brief moment, snapping into fists, and then gripping the sticks again. “He’s lying right there. He’s right there behind me. The man who…and I-”
Syfax nodded. “Ohana, I get it. Trust me. There’ll be plenty of time for Hamuy later. He’s not going anywhere, and your captain has the best doctors in Tingis patching her up as we speak. But right now I need you to focus on flying this boat. Can you do that for me?”
She swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. How’s that arm?” He nodded at her left hand.
She wiggled her fingers on the throttle. “Fine, sir.”
They sat together in silence, staring out into the darkness below the wide curve of the gas envelope. Grassy hills and swaying trees slid past them to port while the distant glitter of moonlit waves to starboard revealed the Atlanteen Ocean churning and foaming from the shore out to the end of the world. When his eyes finally adjusted, Syfax picked out the pale line of the railway snaking along the coast and the flickers of light in cottage windows on the slopes above the beaches. Small fishing boats dotted the sands, their mooring lines stretching up to the rocks. A few clouds hid patches of stars, but he could see well enough to tell that the Crake was nowhere in s
ight.
Less than an hour passed before the doctor thumped up behind them and sniffed loudly. Evander wiped at the stains on his fingers with a filthy rag. “I’ve done all I can for the moment. He’ll live, for a while at least. How long, I can’t say. In a hospital, maybe a few weeks. Here?” The doctor shrugged. “I gave him something for the pain.”
Taziri looked back. “He’s not in any pain?”
“I didn’t say that.” Evander smirked. “He’s conscious, more or less. You can try talking to him, for what it’s worth.”
“Thanks, doc.” Syfax stepped back into the cabin. Hamuy’s good eye wasn’t quite open, his breathing was quick and shallow, and his fingers were trembling. As Syfax knelt down, he pressed his palm against his prisoner’s chest. “Medur Hamuy, I’m Major Zidane.”
The man grunted. “Redcoat.” His voice was all phlegm and gravel.
“That’s right. I bet you don’t like Redcoats, do you?”
“Don’t like any of the queen’s dogs. Least of all you, Zidane. I heard about you. What the hell are you doing in that coat? Not enough girls ordering you around in the army?” Medur grinned, and then suddenly screamed, his bloodshot eyes bulging from their sockets and he twisted to stare at his right hand.
“Kenan.” Syfax glanced over his shoulder. “Watch where you’re stepping.”
“Sorry, sir.” The corporal removed his boot from Medur’s bandaged fingers and grinned sheepishly. “I guess I wasn’t looking.”
Did he do that on purpose? I still can’t tell if this kid’s a goofball or a serious player. Syfax turned his attention back to the man on the floor. “Now, Medur, tell me about what happened tonight. The train station. The airfield. You gone all pastoral now? Down with the machine menace and all that?”
“What do you think, Zidane?” Hamuy stared dully at the ceiling, wheezing. “It was a job. A little fire, a little wet work. Easy money.”
“Not easy enough. You should see your face,” Syfax said. “You killed a dozen civilians and put three dozen more in the hospital. All the trains are stuck behind a pile of twisted steel and only this airship survived. Who paid you? Ambassador Chaou? What was the big plan?”
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