Airship Shape & Bristol Fashion

by Howard, Jonathan L

  “Hello handsome.” Her voice had a soft timbre, though something in the way she intoned her words told Benton she was used to giving orders. She turned to Sally. “How’re things, Toby?”

  “Reasonably well, under the circumstances… we had a loss.”

  “Ezra, I’ve heard.” She grimaced.

  “He will be hard to replace,” Sally agreed. “Let me introduce you. Benton Hermaszewski, Crash. Crash, Benton Hermaszewski.”

  “Pleased,” said Benton and seeing Crash’s raised eyebrow added, “Benton will do.”

  She nodded and asked, “So what’s the plan now?”

  “We still need the transport. Can you manage?” Sally’s tone suggested he already knew the answer to his question.

  “Do pigs fly?”

  “Is the Pope a catholic…” Benton cut in. Crash raised an eyebrow again, and her smile caused Benton’s heart to speed up a little. He had to admit, he liked her.

  “I know, honey. It was deliberate.”

  Benton suddenly felt out of balance, which annoyed him, so he didn’t say anything, but took another long gulp of lager. It had a pleasant bitter aftertaste. He couldn’t make out the name from the distance. Someone had switched the jukebox on, letting out Gilmour and friends. He saw few people quietly singing the words of “Another Brick In The Wall’ shook his head in wordless amazement over his situation and took another sip.

  “It won’t be easy but I should manage. The payment will have to be doubled. Sniffers are getting expensive to pay off.”

  “That won’t be a problem. Our client here,” Sally smiled and pointed at Benton, “has a substantial credit with a few independent banks, sufficient to cover the necessary costs.”

  “Now I do feel like I’m being plucked,” threw in Benton.

  Seeing Sally stir in his seat as if to start explaining, he raised his hand. “It was a joke and even so, I don’t mind that much. From what you’ve told me money is not the issue, at least I hope it isn’t?”

  “No, chap, it’s not, not for you anyway.”

  “Good. I would like to know the plan then.”

  “The plan is simple, handsome. We’ll take a short trip together. We fly low and fast and with a pinch of luck, we get out of the whole thing alive.”

  “A little sketchy, don’t you think?”

  “Worked many times before.”

  “And your nickname has no underlying cause, I hope?” he asked, smiling.

  “Nope, I don’t crash things I’m flying.” She frowned. “Unless I’m with a really annoying client…”

  “Fine, fine.” Benton gave up, laughing. “So when do we leave?”

  “Want another pint first?”

  They slipped out into the early morning air, leaving Sally to finish another glass. The city was filled with the smell of sea water and damp, and was quiet and drowsy in the late spring mist. Crash led him to the canal, reached the ladder and disappeared below. He stood for a moment, unsure if he should follow.

  “Coming or not?” came a hiss from below. He climbed down and found himself standing on the weirdest boat he’d ever seen. It was about fifty feet long and had a pair of short, thick wings. The top side was covered in fine network of tiny pipes, all seemingly just for decorative purposes. As he was staring he caught a sight of another zeppelin lowering down towards Redcliff.

  “Is that really an airship?” he asked Crash. She was untying the hawser, but she glanced up quickly.

  “Well it’s a ship and it’s in the air. The conclusion is pretty obvious.” She looked again. “It must be a tanker from the North Pole.”

  “Tanker? So it’s not filled with lifting gas?”

  “What for?” She looked at him, puzzled.

  “To make it fly, of course.”

  “No, silly.” She sighed. “The engines make it fly. The hull is a cargo hold. Come inside, we need to leave.”

  He bit back an ill-tempered reply and quietly went aboard. The inside consisted of a short corridor with a couple of doors on both sides, and the corridor led to cockpit which looked like everything here, lots of brass and weirdness. A few of the panels looked as if they were cannibalised from other machines and had been screwed to the ribbing in not-so-convenient places.

  “What are those?” Benton asked, smacking his forehead unexpectedly on one of the ill-fitted panels. He winced and rubbed his temple with his palm. Crash slid into the pilot seat with lots of grace and zero contact with all the protruding machinery.

  “Experimental tech. A friend acquired it for me.” She pulled a few levers and grabbed a steering stick. There was a noticeable tremor transmitting through the hall. “It’s supposed to improve travelling speed, but he didn’t manage to get me the whole specs so I haven’t figured it out.” She gave one of the foot pedals a hearty kick. “Yet.”

  The whole ship vibrated harshly for a couple of seconds before dropping into a steady murmur. Crash took them swiftly into the air, raising just high enough to dodge the tops of the buildings, and turned south-east towards Bath. After a couple of minutes they had reached the outskirts of the city. Benton noticed that in place of Keynsham and the surrounding villages stood a healthy forest. If the population had dwindled as Sally said, this was not surprising.

  “Which way?” he asked, looking down at the mist-clouded landscape.

  “We’ll try to slip through near Bath and then head towards Dorchester village. There’s a hole in the sniffers’ coverage in that area.” She turned down a couple of dials and the temperature rose to a comfortable level.

  “You’re a smuggler, aren’t you?”

  “Entrepreneur,” she replied with a smile. “A girl has to make a living these days. What about you? Pilot?”

  “Engineer, with roughly thirty years lag in technology.” He waved at the shiny cockpit. “Not to mention all that free energy stuff.”

  “It’s not really free. The parts can cost an arm and a leg and on top of that paying off the spotters to get you location of holes in the sniffers’ net… it’s all pretty expensive if you’re not part of the corp.”

  “I can imagine. Is the net covering the whole of the isles?”

  “Yeah, it was put there by Brunel’s Co some five years ago to ensure they control the markets even more tightly. There are holes in it but they are getting harder to find. Luckily there’s no such thing on the other side of the channel. Although I’ve heard the French are thinking of cobbling one together with the German Federation.”

  “How long will the flight be?”

  “If we’re lucky, about five hours. Once we reach the south of France we’ll be out of the woods. Even if something sticks to us then I’ll be able to lose it in the Alps.”

  “It’s all pretty weird. Has the rest of the world gone mad as well?”

  “To some extent. The continent is fascinated by cybertech, apart from those places occupied by new age hippies. Africa hadn’t change much, there’s perhaps a little less fighting now that there are less people there. China is sealed. The number of smugglers that run successful operations from there can be counted on the fingers of one hand. And the States have militarized even more after the union with Canada and Mexico.”

  “What about Australia and South America?”

  “I’ve heard that South America went technologically backwards, but for all I know that’s just a rumour. I have no idea, and not much interest either, in what happened in Australia recently. We usually have hands full with local business.”

  They had just cleared the murky outskirts of Bath when one of the tiny holoscreens in front of Benton’s seat lit up. Crash looked at it with a tense expression.

  “Shit. We’ve been spotted.” She quickly touched few buttons and the engine’s murmur shifted into a roar.

  “Anything I can do to help?” Benton asked as he noticed a series of laser beams sliding past the cockpit, flaring against the glass.

  “Shut up and don’t distract me.”

  Crash took the ship through a series of
tight turns and levelled out over what seemed to be a flooded strip of unused road.

  “We’re going to try an old Russian trick!” she yelled over the roar of the engines. She descended slowly until they flew about twenty feet above the surface of the river Benton had mistaken for road. They were gaining speed spraying huge jets of water in their wake and surely scaring the life out of any wildlife in a few mile radius. The problem was that the river ran in straight line, so they were even more exposed to their pursuers. Looking at one of the holoscreens, Benton could just about to make out the shapes of the two units that were chasing them. They both looked deadly enough and soon shells started to rattle at the back of the flyer while some sort of energy projectiles wreaked havoc to the riverbanks.

  “They do want you bad!” Crash shouted.” But at least it seems they prefer you alive, more or less!”

  “Why don’t you switch the extra gear on?” he yelled to Crash, pointing to the idle boxes crowding near his head. An explosion blew the water high in the air, spattering against their right wing.

  “I don’t know how!” she shouted back and kicked what must be an emergency accelerator. Benton felt the ship speed up for a moment. Unfortunately it didn’t take long before they were under fire again and the air sang with explosions. One of the explosives reached the target and Benton suddenly found half dozen long shards of metal sunken in his right thigh. He cursed loudly.

  “Under the seat!” shouted Crash and put the flyer to a barrel roll, gaining altitude. The world outside turned into a blurred smudge of green and blue.

  He reached down but all he could find was a piece of an old safety belt. He made a tourniquet to try to stop the slow bleeding. It was hurting like hell, but as far as he could see no major arteries were damaged. He lifted his gaze towards one of the extra panels in front and suddenly, ignoring the pain, found himself adjusting dials and changing settings. He worked as if in a trance, the boom of explosions and Crash’s shouts and curses only a distant echo. He turned the last knob and to his amazement the panels flickered with life. Before he could say anything there was a loud crackling, and suddenly they were flying above sea waves, with all the warning lights and bells exclaiming in panic. Benton couldn’t see any sign of pursuit on the flickering holo. Crash cursed loudly and pulled up. As they climbed she checked the holoscreen and swore again.

  “What did you do?”

  Benton shook his head.

  “I’m not sure. I think I’ve switched whatever this thing you’ve got there is, on.”

  “How?”

  “No idea. I just… it just felt right.” He suddenly felt confused, and scared, and his leg was throbbing. What did he not remember? He was not familiar with this technology, so he must have intuitively figured it out. The scary part was, he had no idea how. Suddenly, what Sally said about his situation didn’t seem so ridiculous.

  “And right, it saved our asses. So thanks, but ask me next time before you’ll start playing with my toys.” She glanced up at him. “You’re ok? You don’t look so good. It’s not motion sickness, I hope?”

  “I’m fine,” he replied absently. “I just don’t remember knowing anything about devices such as these and I’m pretty certain we had nothing like them on Daedalus.”

  “Yeah. Weird, eh? Let’s tend to that leg of yours.” She flicked a purple switch and went to the back for a moment. She returned with a medkit that included some suspicious looking syringes.

  “For the pain, and in case of infection,” she explained, seeing Benton’s expression. “It should also help with the healing process, but the guy I bought this from was Japanese, so no guarantees here.” She gave him the shot and helped him cut the bloodied remains of his trousers.

  “Now that’s something. Not even a single date and you’re already dropping your pants.” She said with a smile while pulling the first shard. The anaesthetic hadn’t kicked in yet so Benton flinched.

  “If this is your idea of a good time, I’d rather pass out” He smiled back through clenched teeth.

  “You soon might anyway, I just remembered the shot I gave you was also a mild sedative.” She removed the last of the metal pieces of the hull from his leg and bandaged the wound.

  “Now I’m really scared,” he replied. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She tossed the remnants of his trousers and the bloodied belt to the corridor.

  “We will get someone to look at this when we land…” She stopped mid sentence. “Providing I know where the heck it is you have taken us to.” She checked the holo. “Nice, it took us over a hundred miles south-east in a flash. We’ll be passing Le Havre soon. Take a nap if you can, it’s pretty boring from here on.”

  “Thanks, I might. Do I get a discount because I helped you rescue me?”

  “We can talk about it over the diner you’re inviting me for.” She smiled and he laughed.

  “Deal.” He tried to stretch a little in the limited space of the cockpit. “Where are we landing?”

  “Engelsberg, about ten miles south of Lucerne. I think you’ll find it a little different from Bristol.”

  “I’m absolutely certain that nothing will surprise me any more,” he replied, folding his arms on his chest and finding a comfortable position to take a nap.

  “We’ll see,” she murmured, and flashed her teeth in a quick smile. The landscape below slid past quickly. Ruined houses, dotted here and there, covered with moss and ivy, gave the scene a hint of sadness. Benton thought of all the lives lost since he left Earth. He wondered if any of the people he knew had survived during his absence. Thirty years, the plague, it was not looking promising. He chased the dark thoughts around in his head for a while, before finally giving in to the tiredness, pain and sedatives.

  “Ben, sobacza twoja mat!” came from behind him. He turned, to find himself trapped in a powerful hug of a red haired, tall mass of muscles.

  “Jevgienij,” gasped Benton when he was finally released. He returned the beaming smile “It’s good to see you too. What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting, eating, drinking.” Jevgienij patted his belly, that had not a single gram of excess fat. “Getting old and fat!” His gaze met that of Crash, and he winked.

  Benton looked around. Crash had docked the ship to a pier near a picturesque cabin surrounded by spur trees and Alps presented against a canvas of deep blue sky. Midday sun reflected off the water and highlighted patches of wild flowers growing on the slopes of the surrounding mountains.

  “Yeah,” said Benton, turning back to Jevgienij. “I can understand why.”

  “Come, both of you. We’ll have food and we’ll talk. There will be schnitzel with plum, which I’m told is to die for, and some apfelstrudel”

  They followed Jevgienij to the cabin, which turned out to be much larger up close than from a distance. When they entered, Benton stopped in surprise at the sight of the man who opened the door. The first thing that attracted his attention was the man’s head. Parts of his skull had been replaced with what looked like polished aluminium plates. He also had cybernetic arms and legs. He saw Benton’s stare and smiled.

  “First time in Europe, sir?” he asked with a perfect accent.

  “Yes.” Benton snapped out of the stupor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

  “It’s only natural, I do not feel offended. Please, make yourself comfortable.” He pointed them to a side room with one completely transparent wall. The trio sat around an oblong table, looking at the view.

  “Who is he?” asked Benton, as the man left to prepare the food.

  “His name’s Vadim. He’s a son of my friend from Pietrogrod. You see, after the plague every child was precious and Europe had no reservation in exploiting the reaches of cybernetics. Besides, implantations and bionics are the height of fashion now, all across the continent.” Jevgienij poured them some wine. “Of course, it’s the French that are at the forefront, but they always had a… how you say it? A knack for these things.”

&
nbsp; Crash tried the wine and gave out a sigh of relief, stretching her long slim legs under the table.

  “Not everybody is so taken by the tin hands and heads, but in most places I’ve been to, they really have saved lives,” she agreed. “And speaking of health, you should let Vadim take a look at your leg.”