Faster Than Falling: The Skylighter Adventures

by Nathan Van Coops

  “I never knew there were so many of you,” Kipling said.

  Quimby tugged on Kipling’s arm. “Come on. We’ve got to go.”

  She eased them past a team of individuals hauling a cart along the passage and handing out tough-looking loaves of bread. She nodded to one of the men pushing the cart, and he winked conspiratorially as she went by. “Hey, Quimby. Tell that sister of yours she needs to come see me.”

  Quimby rolled her eyes and kept walking.

  “Is that guy a friend of yours?” Kipling asked.

  “He’s in the movement, but he mostly just wants to get with my sister.” She gave him a smirk. “It’s never going to happen.”

  Kipling tried to put an age to Quimby. Fourteen maybe? She wasn’t much older than him, but she seemed to be acting it. “What’s ‘the movement?’“ Kipling asked.

  Quimby paused outside a heavy metal door fixed into the rock. “Look, I probably shouldn’t be letting you in, because I just met you, but since you just got here, there’s no chance you’re working for them. And even if you were, it’s too late. It’s all happening. Nothing’s going to stop it now.”

  “Stop what?” Kipling asked.

  “The revolution.”

  She knocked.

  A panel in the door slid open and a pair of eyes surveyed the passage. They glossed over Quimby but lingered on Kipling. “Who’s that?”

  “He’s with me,” Quimby said. “Open up.”

  “What’s the password?”

  “You’re a moss licker. Open the door already, Howard.”

  Howard grumbled behind the door, but opened it anyway.

  Kipling followed Quimby past the oafish teenage doorman into a long cavern, the front of which was outfitted with wooden benches. Most were already full of men and women in clothes heavily stained with soot or dirt. A few were dressed up, however, mostly women, who looked like they might have jobs as barmaids or serving women. Kipling hadn’t learned all the various clothing styles of Grounder culture, but he did know you don’t work a mine in a corset.

  A big man with shaggy black curls was standing on a platform at the front of the room and they seemed to have interrupted his speech. He nodded to Quimby with a smile and gave Kipling a quick once-over, but then went back to speaking.

  “You’ve all known this day would come. We’ve prepared and we’ve kept watch. Our chance has finally arrived.” His voice boomed around the cavern. “We’ve had word from multiple sources now that the rumors are true. Lord Savage has ordered the entire fleet out to the desert. He wants every ship that flies and every home that floats moved out to the dig site. He means to raise his wreck tomorrow.”

  “Where’s your sister?” Kipling whispered to Quimby as they took seats on the last row of benches.

  “She’s up front, by Dex.” Quimby pointed right of the speaker to a young woman with straight black hair pulled away from her face. She had a piercing through her nose and multiple through her ears.

  “What’s her name?” Kipling asked.

  “Landy.”

  The man on the bench was still speaking. “It’s been too long that we’ve watched our fathers and brothers and sons waste their lives in these mines. It’s been too long that our sisters and daughters have been used to serve the whims of these phony lords and ladies in their floating castles, while the rest of us starve.”

  The crowd was murmuring in agreement.

  “And I for one, am tired of watching the woman I love slave to earn an ounce of respect in these people’s world.” His eyes lingered on Landy. “They’ve asked us to work, but not taught us how to improve. When we’ve learned on our own, they’ve taxed us and fined us for the knowledge we gained honestly. Never once have they let us into their hallowed treasury of Old World wisdom. They let us squander our lives, keeping us away from the things that make life worth living, while they hoard that knowledge for themselves.” He pointed a finger toward the ceiling. “They’ve kept every skill that turns a profit, every art that makes beauty, and even the means to retain the words we speak, under their control.”

  The murmurs of the crowd turned to shouts. A man stood up and yelled, “It’s their turn to pay, Dex!”

  Dex pointed at the man who had shouted. “You’re right, Zhang. And this is our chance. Tomorrow morning, when the sun rises, we rise, too.”

  The crowd broke into a cheer. People got to their feet and someone started a chant. “Rise up! Rise up!” The rest of the group quickly joined in.

  Kipling leaned over to Quimby. “What are they planning to do?

  Quimby smiled, keeping her eyes on her sister, who had stood now to join Dex on the platform. He had an arm wrapped around her.

  “They’re starting the revolution. They’re going to take the Library of Knowledge, and give the relics back to the people, where they belong.”

  “Won’t the raiders know who took them? They have all those airships. Won’t they fight?”

  “We’ve got airships, too.” Quimby replied.

  Dex settled the crowd a little and continued his speech. “We’ve worked hard to prepare for this day. Tell your men that as soon as those Air Corps ships get through the Storm Gate and into the desert, we take the library.”

  “What about our people at the dig?” a woman shouted. “My son’s out there.”

  “We’re going to get them, too. I’ll be leading the raid on the dig site myself, and Landy will be aboard one of the Savages’ own ships. She’s got people loyal to our cause. I’ll be leading our fleet low across the desert, just above the surface. We’ll send up the signal, collect our people, and fly like the wind back to the city. By that time the fighters here will have secured the Storm Gate and taken the library. Whatever men the Air Corps leaves here won’t be enough. I’ll guarantee you that.”

  “They’ll come after us with a vengeance, Dex,” a man in front spoke up. “The Air Corps, Marlow Savage, and the whole lot of them. They’ll be on you like a swarm of bees.”

  “They can chase us all they like, Cal,” Dex replied. “Just so long as we get back through the Storm Gate first. Let ‘em stir up all the rage they’ve got. It won’t be enough.”

  “You think we got enough fighters to hold the gate against the entire fleet?” a woman asked.

  “Don’t need fighters,” Dex said. “We’ve got the engineers. And we won’t need to hold the Storm Gate. We’re going to bring down the mountain.”

  32

  ENZO

  Atlas scoured the cargo hold for any type of tools that could free his grandfather. He’d tried to unlock the padlock on the manacles using the key the girl in the cavern had dropped, but it didn’t fit. He tried a piece of baling wire he discovered in the storage locker, but no matter how he twisted and turned it, the lock refused to budge.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to be at all. He’d come all this way and located his grandfather, but now he seemed no closer to freeing him. There were no keys. No way to get him off the ship.

  Enzo had watched patiently throughout his search of the hold, and his various vain attempts at the lock. But after an hour of trying with no success, the old man called him over.

  “Come. Sit, my boy.” Enzo patted the pile of straw next to him. “We’ll give it a rest for now and perhaps something will come to us. Besides, I want to talk to you.”

  Atlas reluctantly crawled into the space next to his grandfather and took a seat. He couldn’t believe his rotten luck. He was so close.

  “I’m happy you came, Atlas,” Enzo said. “I think it must have taken a lot of courage. Did you have a difficult time? Was it dangerous?”

  Atlas thought about the journey and nodded. He told his grandfather about the spiders dropping from the walls of the Rift on the way out of the valley. Then he told him about the leak in the ship he fixed and meeting Kipling in the Highlands.

  “Samra was taken, was she?” Enzo said. “Her parents must be very frightened for her.” He winced as he shifted his position against the wall.


  “Are you hurt?” Atlas asked. “What did they do to you?”

  “It’s nothing,” Enzo replied. “Go on. Tell me more about Samra.”

  Atlas frowned but continued. “Kip says her people weren’t going to do anything. That’s why he had to come after her himself,” Atlas said. “He came to rescue her, same way I came to rescue you.”

  Enzo canted his head a little. “I suspect if you heard it from her parents’ perspective you might hear a different story.” The old man tugged his coat a little tighter around himself. “I imagine they’re plenty worried and trying to find a way to get to her. Just like I suspect your Aunt Amelia is plenty worried about you.”

  Atlas thought about Amelia holding on to the side of the Sun Dragon and the way she had tried to stop him from leaving.

  “She’s the one who tried to keep me from rescuing you. If she had her way, I’d still be home. Why don’t people ever act the way they need to? Nobody even leaves the valley. You’re the only one brave enough to do it.”

  Enzo hugged his chest and the chain attached to the manacles rattled across the floor. “I can see how it may look that way sometimes. But there are all kinds of bravery. Take your aunt Amelia for instance. She’s one of the bravest people I ever met.”

  “She is?”

  “Oh, yes. Incredibly brave.” He coughed a couple of rasping coughs into his handkerchief. “I don’t know that she’s ever told you the whole story about how she came to be your guardian, but I think it might be time you knew.”

  Atlas studied his grandfather’s face. He was pale and had a far-off look in his eyes, like he was seeing some long-ago sadness.

  “You mean the story of how my parents died?” Atlas said.

  “Yes. It certainly began with that.” Enzo blinked and focused on him again.

  “But I already know that story,” Atlas said. “They died in a crash. They went down in the water crossing the strait. You always said they died doing what they loved—flying and being together.”

  “And that’s true,” Enzo said. “They did love that. Your mother, Maggie, fell in love with the sky the first time I ever took her up in a skyship. She begged me to go up every day, first thing after she woke up. The day she took her first solo flight, I thought her smile would never stop. I’d swear she was even smiling in her sleep that night.

  “And your father, he fell in love with that smile. Jonathan grew to love flying because he loved her, and he always wanted to see that smile on her face. Nothing in the world would have kept those two apart, or kept them out of the sky.”

  “But what does that have to do with Amelia?” Atlas asked.

  “Because, what she’s never told you, and what she’s always asked me not to share, was that the day your parents’ ship went down in the strait, they weren’t the only two aboard. Amelia was there, too. Just a kid, mind you. Thirteen, fourteen maybe. And you would’ve been just a baby. They’d left you with your grandmother that day and gone on an adventure together.” Enzo coughed into his handkerchief again, but then continued.

  “Weather turned bad. It forced their airship farther and farther off shore. Ship broke up in the storm and they went down in the water. Wasn’t much left of it but one good lift pod. Your mother put Amelia on that pod while she went back to the wreckage to search for Jonathan. They were separated in the swells and the two of them never got found.” Enzo sighed.

  Atlas spun a piece of hay between his fingertips and thought about the way he’d knocked Amelia over with the lateral fin actuator. The shock on her face that he’d hurt her. He could almost see the same sadness on her face as a teenager, the loss of her brother and sister-in-law in the strait weighing on her.

  “We found Amelia the next morning, floating on that pod near Baker’s point,” Enzo continued. “She was dehydrated and exhausted and she didn’t talk for nearly a week.” He lowered his head. “And I hate to say it, but I was no help at all. Losing your mother sent me into a tailspin. She was my whole world and it wrecked me for a long time.” He brushed a dusty hand across his brow.

  “I wasn’t nearly the man I should have been,” he continued. “And it wore hard on your grandmother. We lost her that spring, and I was a total loss then.”

  “You were too sad?”

  “Sad, and angry at myself for ever having taught Maggie to fly in the first place. I stayed at the farm and didn’t come to town for a couple of years. Meanwhile, it was your aunt Amelia who stepped up. She took you in and cared for you. She raised you as best she could with basically no help. At least till Cathy came along.”

  Enzo rested a hand on Atlas’s shoulder. “So when I say that Amelia’s one of the bravest people I know, I know what I’m talking about. She did what I couldn’t. She looked past her own pain and saw what needed doing. She did it without complaining and without reservation. Even when you got old enough to start wanting to spend time with me—even when you wanted to learn to fly—she didn’t stop me from teaching you. She saw the same light in your eyes that Jonathan saw in your mother’s. She didn’t keep you from loving the sky, even though it had cost her everyone she loved. And she taught me that again, too.

  “I was an old man and I didn’t know how to change my ways. And flying for me was the only thing I knew to do to hang on to the memory of your mother, so I kept at it. She never would have wanted me to quit. I knew, deep down, someday you’d be ready, too.” Enzo patted him on the knee. “And look at you now. You flew all the way here. You came and found me.”

  Atlas fidgeted with the lock on the chains. “But, what are we going to do? I can’t get you out. I made it all this way, but I failed.”

  Enzo coughed again and winced. “You didn’t fail, my boy. You did what you set out to do. You found me.”

  “But what good is finding you if we can’t escape?”

  “I don’t know that I can just yet,” Enzo replied. “But maybe soon.” He broke into another coughing fit, and this time Atlas spotted a blotch of red seeping through his handkerchief.

  “What happened? What did they do to you?” He rolled to his knees to get a better look at his grandfather. The old man’s coat had fallen open and Atlas saw the stain on his shirt.

  Enzo winced again and tugged at his coat. “They harpooned my old Express,” he muttered. “And their aim wasn’t so good.”

  Atlas tried to look at the wound under his grandfather’s coat, but Enzo pushed his hands away.

  “Won’t do any good prodding at it. Damage is done.”

  Atlas scrambled to his feet and looked around the stall for some means to assist his grandfather’s condition. There was nothing of use in sight. “I have to get help somehow. I have to do something . . . ”

  Enzo reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled something out. It was the necklace he wore that looked like a stone triangle with a hole in it. He pulled it over his head and held it up for Atlas. “Here, I want you to have this.”

  “The relic key?” Atlas shook his head. “That’s yours.”

  “I’d like you to hold onto it for me. I’m not sure what these raiders intend to do with the relic they took from town, but they’ll want to take this from me when they decide they really need it.”

  Atlas’s eyes lingered on his grandfather’s bloodstained shirt, then looked at the stone, noting the thin lines carved into it. They shimmered slightly with tiny metallic inlay. “It’s important?”

  “It’s our family key,” Enzo said. “Has the knowledge I’ve learned from the town relic stored away on it. I’ve heard them talking and it sounds like they’ve been collecting relics from all over. I suspect they have a fair amount of their own keys, too, but I’d rather they not have this one. Go on. Take it.” He grasped Atlas’s wrist with bony fingers and placed the stone into his palm, then he let his manacled wrist fall back into his lap.

  Atlas turned the stone over in his hands once, then slipped the cord over his neck. The pendant joined the metal key the girl had dropped in the cavern that he now h
ad dangling on its leather strap. He tucked both under his shirt, then reached over to help his grandfather sit up straighter.

  “Next time you run into a relic, you can show it that you know all the things I’ve taught you about flying and farming, and how to run the pressure machine,” Enzo said. “Reason I’d like you to keep it, is that I’m not sure I want these folk having those things I’ve learned. Worked long and hard on those inventions and I’m not sure just yet what they’d like to use them for. But you can use ‘em. You keep on using them the way we have been at the farm.”

  “But our town relic’s gone now,” Atlas said. “They took it and they killed Mr. Merritt.”

  “I overheard that from some of the crew,” Enzo replied. “Dale was a good man and a good teacher. The town’ll suffer without him around. Even more reason to keep the knowledge we’ve gained safe. We need to try to hang on to what we’ve learned up in the mountains, Atlas. Not let it all get taken down south. Bad things happen when one group has the opportunities and others don’t. Never does work out, but especially for the ones with naught.”

  Atlas was about to speak when something scratched at the wall of the ship behind them. He looked up to the small window at the top of the pen. Something was flapping around the outside. It squeaked.

  “Fledge!” Atlas exclaimed. He popped up and put his foot in the wall-mounted feeding trough so he could reach the window. He climbed up and opened the latch on the window. The cliff fox immediately landed on the sill and squeezed his way through the miniature window. It scrabbled over Atlas’s shoulder and hopped to the floor. Its next step was to flap over to Enzo and climb directly into his lap.

  “Oh ho!” Enzo said. “The prodigal fox has returned. Been out having fun without me have you?”

  The cliff fox stretched its wings once, then tucked them in and settled into the hollow of Enzo’s chest. He stroked the creature’s head. “Always did know how to find me, high or low.”

  “You think he’ll be able to show us the way home?” Atlas asked. “Once we get you out?” He settled back to the floor next to his grandfather and petted the cliff fox. Fledge yawned.